


Shameful Metaphors

by Dmfritsch



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-07-18 23:40:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 91,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7335709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dmfritsch/pseuds/Dmfritsch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two officers find themselves entangled in a relationship pre-apocalypse, both of them fighting their own demons. Neither one of them is prepared for the trials that they both face when the world begins to crumble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** I have been planning this story for literal months. I haven't had the guts to write it out. Not to spill my entire life story on here, but I've been struggling with some pretty deep depression that kept me away from writing. This story spoke to me for some reason. I'm hoping it leads me to finish this and the other stories I've abandoned for months (I mean years!). This story isn't light and fluffy. I will warn anyone for any triggers. This story focuses around a woman who's been a victim of domestic violence.

I am also not a police officer. I'm a nurse, so please take this into account when you're reading it! (Googling is not always the perfect solution!) Please be gentle on reviews, this is the first story I haven't felt like posting in 2+ years! There may be some mistakes, I read through it about 2-3 times and edited as I saw fit.

This will be a slow burn love story. And Shane is not evil, or insane. The beginning of this story starts out a year before the zombie outbreak. And if this chapter seems to flow very slowly or seems boring, I promise the next chapter will pick up the pace.

I don't own anything you already know, please enjoy! :)

_10/27/16_ \- I edited some of this to make more sense and flow more with the story. Fixed some errors I saw.

 

* * *

 

 

**CHAPTER**

**ONE**

 

 

* * *

 

Most days, it was relatively humid in the northern part of Georgia. The wind would blow with no relief, the humidity made the air feel like a warmed oven, each breath felt like choking on cinders. Face red and hot, Jennifer Morgan stood in line before her superiors. Sweat formed an uncomfortable barrier between her and her uniform. She felt the sticky sensation every time she moved. Fidgeting just enough to not be noticed, she kept her body pointed forward, arms at her sides, head straight. Another soft gust of wind blew past. This time, she could not resist the urge to move, stepping out of place after the gust had dissipated. The heat was unbearable, letting her feel every itch and scratch of her recruit uniform. Shane Walsh's eyes settled on her as she moved back into place. He had a bit of a five o'clock shadow, his wavy, dark brown hair sticking up around his head. Her eyes met his and she looked down before stepping back into line. He hadn't seen Jennifer before in the interviews that they had with the recruits. He found himself intrigued, unable to take his gaze off of her. They held eye contact briefly before she broke it, blinking rapidly before exhaling and refocusing herself.

Men and women stood at her sides, standing in the same stance, arms stiffly at their sides, jaws tense, eyes cast on something in the distance, all fresh graduates from the North Central Georgia Law Enforcement Academy. Six graduates had been handpicked for the King's County's Sheriff's Department, Jennifer Morgan included. Shane stopped before Jennifer and smirked at her, her green eyes focused on the landscape far off in the distance, making it a point to not make eye contact with him so close. Making eye contact once had been bad enough, but now he was in front of her, almost challenging her. His head cocked to the side, waiting for her to make another move. The recruits had been dragged out into the heat to listen to Sheriff Deputy Rick Grimes instruct them over how the next few weeks would go in accordance to orientation and preparation for the actual field. Rick took the chance to look over the two women and four men with scrutiny. He looked over every single one of them, from their haircuts down to the hems of their pants. It may not seem like a big deal to the average person, but uniforms were held in high regard. It was borderline military.

"I'm not saying these next few weeks won't be as tough as the academy, but realize you're halfway there. At the end of these eight weeks, Shane and I will deliberate, and we will only pick three of you. Understand that what will be expected of you is _not_ out of spite, it's to prepare you and see how you will handle real life police work," Rick spoke. His brown hair was trimmed into a perfect brush cut, uniform pressed, and a fresh clean shaven face. Rick Grimes worked hard to maintain his appearance. All of his gear gave him a slight jingle as he walked before the six men and women. "For five days a week, eight hours a day, you'll follow a fellow deputy around. Any time you are not here, you are to have your handheld radio on you _at all_ times. You will have a strict on call schedule. Miss any calls while you're on call and you might as well find a different department to work in." Jennifer took this moment to look at Rick. Rick looked from recruit to recruit, none of them making eye contact with him. When it came to Jennifer, she did the same, quickly looking away, focusing on the same tree line she had focused on when Shane stood before her. "Head on inside and change into the uniform, recruits. Anna at the front desk will get your handhelds assigned to you."

Each one of the recruits was hopeful in attaining a position on the unit. Most of them had dreams of becoming police officers as children, with the exception of Jennifer Morgan. There were only three positions open on the unit for patrol. For actual police work. If you didn't make the cut you were expected to do some meaningless task inside of the precinct. The small group broke off from Rick and Shane, heading inside to the locker rooms. The air conditioning was welcomed on Jennifer's skin. Heading inside made her understand just how unbelievably sticky she was. She exhaled slowly upon entering, allowing herself a moment to think about how far she had came. "This is such bullshit, I hear that the recruits in Atlanta are hired no matter what," Casey Brown, one of the male recruits groaned, slamming the door to his locker closed. Jennifer glanced at him as she unbuttoned her shirt to replace her graduate uniform. She and Casey had been friends since the beginning of the academy. The other recruits were doing the same, slowly pulling themselves out of the uniforms they had worked so hard to obtain.

"Tell me about it, man, I don't even wanna hear that shit," another recruit spoke, slamming his locker in the same fashion. Jennifer resisted the urge to jump at th loud noise and continued the task of unbuttoning her recruit uniform.

"This was the first place that accepted my application," Jennifer spoke, looking down the line of men and women beside her. Her uncle Terry had begged her to come out and stay with him in King's County. And it's not like she could really refuse, he was the last of her family aside from her older brother, Trevor. Who had went off and became some busy, detached lawyer in Dallas. Casey followed her soon after she made up her mind to come to King's County. It was their plan to become partners together. It was a deal they had worked out during their first week at the Academy. Jennifer worked to pull her thick, brown curly hair into a tight knot on the back of her head, stretching out another elastic in the process. She may have given her uncle the satisfaction of taking a potential job offer in this city, but her heart had been set on Savannah, somewhere near the coast. Terry had driven a hard bargain. He wasn't going to charge her rent. His only request was that she help him rebuild/work on his house and spend some time with him. She could hardly refuse.

"Mine too," the other female recruit, Tiffany Mann, replied. She was all of five feet tall, her voice low, and hushed. Jennifer knew better than to underestimate her strength, she had watched her outrun plenty of their peers in the academy. The locker room became quiet again after that, only filled with the sounds of snapping or zipping. Jennifer shoved her academy uniform into her locker and set out into the office area of the building, hoping to find Anna rather easily. Being in a new environment around new people made her feel as though the entire world was sitting on her shoulders, making it hard to concentrate on anything in particular. Her stomach turned at the unfamiliar area, her eyes quickly bouncing from name tag to name tag on the desks before her. She swallowed hard past the panic that was settling in her throat. Casey waved to her from across the room. She gave him a small smile and approached him and the desk he was standing before. The panic released it's clutches from her as she walked calmly to her friend.

"Found Anna," he whispered as Jennifer stood behind him. A red headed woman was hunched over a mound of paperwork, speaking out loud to herself as she scribbled Casey's name down on a form.

"Now," Anna drawled, her accent thick, "keep this on your person at all times. The battery life is about three to four hours, you wanna make sure you always got your power adapter handy. An' if you lose it, you're lookin' at about three hundred dollars of your hard earned pay, so please treat it like a baby." She smiled sweetly before handing over the bulky black radio. Casey smiled to her, his brown eyes crinkling as he took it. "Your number 's 406."

"Thank you, ma'am." He placed the radio carefully into a holster on his right side, side-stepping for Jennifer to take his place.

"Your name?" Anna asked.

"Jennifer Morgan," she replied, giving her a small smile. It took an immense amount of concentration on her part for her to be able to even muster that smile. She glanced over to Casey who patted her on the shoulder. There was an unspoken vibe between them, something that neither one of them could quite explain. He just knew things about her. He just knew when she needed help.

"Same thing applies to you, sweetheart. Your number's 407." Anna slid the radio over with one hand while the other continued to write. Her smile was wide and bright, it was all Jennifer could do to not return the smile, holding the large, bulky radio in her hand. Shane approached Casey and Jennifer from behind. He clapped his hands together and smiled.

"Who's ready to head out to the ammunition locker?" Shane asked, looking between the two recruits. Jennifer stood, frozen, staring at Shane with the same knowing expression she had given him in the line-up outside. She was afraid of everything at this point.

"We're both ready," Casey answered, helping Jennifer tuck her radio into its holster on her right side.

"Well then, let's head on that way." Shane smiled as he as extended his hand in the direction of the locker. He assisted the both of them in the right direction, giving a quick, teasing bow as they entered. Shane equipped them both with handcuffs, mace, a taser, and a standard glock 22 before escorting them to the car garage in the back. "Morgan, you're with me today," Shane spoke after showing them where they could find their schedules for the next eight weeks. Jennifer barely glanced over the small cork bulletin board in the garage. She was more concerned with how the day was going to go more than how the next few weeks would. "Brown, you're with Deputy Hansen." A man approached Shane from behind, aviators gleaming in the industrial lights above them. He had the same five o'clock shadow, his light brown hair slicked back. His smile exposed the dimples on both sides of his lips. "Hansen, this is Brown. Brown, this is Hansen." The two men shook hands, Casey smiling while they walked to a police car in the garage. She took a moment to internally damn herself for not being as friendly and outgoing as her friend. It came all so easily to him. He turned to give her a look before walking off with Hansen. He already knew how the day was going to to go for her. "You ready to go, Morgan?" Shane asked before pulling his aviators on.

"Yep," she answered, following along behind him. Shane drove them into the city, commenting occasionally on any particular points of interest. Jennifer kept her eyes outside of her window, watching the various fields of green pass by them. Most of the land was flat, compared to Chattanooga, her hometown. The car's radio was low, playing a sad, crooning country song. She would never admit it out loud, but she hated country. It was _his_ favorite music. She bit down on her lip and tried to keep herself even, trying to think of anything and everything but _him_ as he drove.

"So," Shane said, dropping his right hand heavily on the steering wheel for emphasis. She flinched and turned to look at him, her green eyes snapping over to meet Shane's. "Why law enforcement?"

"I like helping people, protecting them…" Jennifer replied, giving an answer that she had used numerous times before. It was the best line she had came up with. It was a lot better than the other answer. No one particularly liked hearing about abuse. It wasn't a conversation topic. For most, it was better just to pretend nothing like that ever happened. And that was the case with most people. In the academy she had learned how to give the same generic answer everyone else did. Whether recruits liked to admit it or not, there was almost always some kind of hidden childhood trauma that revolved around them becoming police officers. Only Jennifer's didn't stem from childhood.

"Please spare me the classic bullshit answer." Jennifer made what she assumed was eye contact with him and gave a curt nod. Shane was a veteran in the police force. He knew the classic answer. Jennifer knew it. Shane knew it. It was common knowledge among police officers. Everyone always liked to protect people. Everyone liked to help.

"I didn't realize that was a classic answer." Shane nodded, throwing a piece of gum into his mouth. He cocked his head to the side, eyebrows raised. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She knew better than to say that. But she didn't know how to shift the attention from her. She didn't like it.

"Everyone gives that answer."

"That's seriously why I joined." He smiled and looked out of the window briefly before settling his eyes back onto the road, smirking as he did so. Jennifer felt her skin began to prick up. Her thoughts fell back on her time with her ex-boyfriend, her face being pounded like a mound of clay. She could feel herself retracting back into that state, the time where she was not herself. Her mind began to take her back and she struggled to hold on, only breaking from the internal movie when Shane spoke again. Sweat beaded on her already sweaty forehead, redness crept up her neck. She could feel every prick and scratch from the new clothes she had put on. She shifted in the seat slightly, hoping SHane would change the subject.

"I'll get the answer from ya. One way or another, I'll find out what it is… might as well be honest now." There was a hint of warning in his voice. Jennifer could feel the knots forming in her stomach. She didn't want to be seen as 'that girl.' The girl who had been abused, therefore was now a fragile ball that didn't value herself. She hated that stigma, it had followed her throughout most of her time in the academy. Most of the men and women at the academy didn't feel comfortable being around her. They saw her as weak, trapped, and responsible for what had happened to her, even though they were all studying to become officers of the law. She vowed to prove to herself and others that was not the case. It was struggle every day. She was going to be the voice for those who didn't have one, she was going to prove that she wasn't weak. She wasn't that person anymore.

"It runs in my family," she answered quickly. She went with the same lie she had told some of the recruits who hadn't heard about her past yet. It was so much easier to talk about. It was a lot harder to say well, my boyfriend used to beat me with a bat, so I decided I'd try to help stop that. "My dad didn't have a boy, like he had always dreamed of, so I decided to finish off his wishes." Shane nodded, a look of approval on his face.

"Your dad's a cop?"

"Yep." The knots slowly began to untangle themselves in her stomach, allowing her to breathe once again. She could feel the redness crawl backwards on skin. He was actually believing her story.

"Where at?"

"Chattanooga, for the last fifteen years." Lying seemed to come so easy to her anymore, it was baffling. It wasn't something she enjoyed, but her private life was not something she let out to just anyone. He let out a low whistle.

"Don't show off in front of the rookies too much, okay?" he joked. "Try to give 'em somewhat of a chance." Jennifer laughed with him, her smile falling when he looked away. He pulled the squad car into a parallel spot among what could only be assumed as the main part of town. People were out walking, carrying bags of all sizes. "C'mon rookie," he laughed, opening his car door. Jennifer got out behind him slowly, shutting the door carefully in response to Shane's enthusiastic slam. He gave a short greeting to those who past him, his hands on his belt. "This here is the main area of town. Lots of businesses, lots of people, lots of action." He smiled, raising his eyebrows towards the crossroads before them. "You'll patrol this area pretty often." He gestured with his hand for her to follow him as he began to walk down the sidewalk. "Wouldn't hurt to get to know the lady who owns the bakery either," he added, lowly, giving Jennifer a broad smile. She smiled back out of politeness, not feeling comfortable enough to put her hands on her utility belt yet.

"When does the traffic start to cool off around here?" she asked, peeking into a few of the shop windows as they walked. Focusing on something else helped calmed her nerves significantly. It was an easy habit to hide. It was easier to pretend to be interested in something rather than the opposite. It made people less interested in you and more interested in what was going on around you.

"Ehh, roughly 7 or 8 at night. Count on 9 or 10 on Friday and Saturday." She nodded, attempting to appear interested in a sun dress at the boutique they passed.

"Do you get a lot of trouble?"

"Mostly it's just'a bunch'a high school kids out tryin' to enjoy themselves." He stopped and perched himself up on a street light, taking care to smile and wave at anyone that passed him. Shane was one of the celebrities of the town. He was the go-to man next to Rick. If Rick wasn't able to help you, Shane was. That's how most of the townsfolk saw him. He was the man they looked to for safety and reassurance. He loved every second of it. "You familiar with small towns like this?"

"Sort of, Chattanooga is a little bigger than King's County." He nodded, cracking his knuckles as he looked out onto the street. She followed his gaze, noting the women who were going out of their way to say hello to Shane.

"Hey baby," a voice rang out from a passing truck. A bright, blonde-headed woman was hanging out of the passenger window, arms extended towards Shane. Shane's smile widened and he waved with his fingers to her, offering a blown kiss in her direction.

"That a part of the patrol, too?" Jennifer asked sarcastically before continuing down the street.

 

* * *

 

"We should hit that bar tonight," Casey announced, tying the laces of his combat boots. "That little one right off of Main." I felt my stomach began to boil over at the word _. Bar._ I had spent plenty of time inside bars over the last two years, trying to erase whatever memories I had of _that_ _asshole_. "Seemed mostly decent." I looked down to Tiffany, who was struggling to shove her swollen foot back into her shoes. I wished that was the majority of my problems at the moment. Most of problems seemed to stem from the unknown. Like what in the actual fuck was I doing. I tried to concentrate on unbuttoning my shirt.

"Mostly decent for a hick town." I assumed that was spoken by Rob or Jon, who had spent most of their days in the same position as me, following around our superior, being introduced into the town. I don't know what I had expected exactly, a massive shoot out? A car chase? It was my orientation. This wasn't Hollywood. But still, I was hoping for something more. I was hoping to jump straight in. This introductory shit was wearing on my nerves. I was never good with first impressions. And this was not working out for me at all. I wanted the beach. I wanted normalcy.

"C'mon, Morgan," Casey stated, slapping his hand on my shoulder. "Don't leave me alone to fend for myself." I smiled and shoved my foot down into my boot, wiggling my toes to make sure it was on tight enough. Casey knew I wasn't going to leave him out there alone. We were best friends. He was the one who followed me to King's County. We had an unspoken debt to each other now. I was going to do whatever he asked for because of it. Not just because I had to, but because I wanted to. Casey was one of the few people I could trust.

"What time?" I sighed, knowing I wasn't going to win this fight. Casey always had the ability to drag me out of my self-pity. If it wasn't for him, I don't think I would have any friends at this point in my life.

"Ten?" I nodded, hooking my handheld onto my side. "Great!"

"Slow down, cowboy," I warned him as he shook me by my shoulders from side to side.

"Tease all you want, Morgan. Don't be jealous that I got to arrest someone today." I turned on my heel to face him. He had a smirk on his face when I turned. "Yep," he started, "Hansen and I arrested a guy today. Come by tonight and I'll give you the full story."

"Mhmmm," I stated, shutting the lock on my locker. He was going to tell me one way or another. The bar was just an excuse. I dragged myself out to my beat up Honda, buckling my seatbelt before taking off to my Uncle Terry's. Terry lived on the outskirts of town. He hadn't moved in ten or fifteen years. I don't remember a time he wasn't living in that old ass house. He was an old veteran and basically a complete hermit, unless it required him to get cigarettes, beer, or food. He lived in an old, broke down farmhouse that probably hadn't been updated since the 80's, but given that it was a free place to stay, I could hardly complain. He spoke of numerous repairs and upgrades that I would have to make in order to pay him for my time. In reality it didn't appear to be that much, but when I had arrived a few days before I slowly realized that may be buying my own place could have been cheaper. It was a worn down two story farmhouse that had seen better days. Paint was peeling outside, the roof leaked in one spot, the far end of the porch was drooping for some unknown reason. The longer I walked through the house the longer the list grew. I marched right up the stairs of the deck, fearing that I would fall through as I walked into the house to be greeted with the strong scent of marijuana.

"Really Terry!?" I shouted, waving a hand in front of my face. I heard him coughing in the living room next to the entrance and the sound of a window opening. Terry's other stipulation was that I say nothing about his love for marijuana. As long as all of this was okay, I was free to stay in the house. He even agreed to let me have the house one day, bearing that it didn't crumble around us.

"Shit! You're home _early_!" he shouted through a cough.

"Not really!" I shouted back, glancing at the black watch around my right wrist.

"Don't arrest me, okay? Family rules! You _can't_ arrest your uncle who's higher than a Georgia Pine." I laughed quietly, adjusting the duffel bag on my shoulder. I chucked it into the corner before hunching down to untie my boots. Just because I had to agree not to tell about the marijuana didn't mean I had to accept it.

"Family rules," I replied, holding my fingers up like a good old fashioned girl scout, trying to erase any and all amusement from my voice. "Remember your niece and nephew _are_ in with the law nowadays."

"Right, right…. At least one can help me avoid jail time, and by that, I mean that fancy pants ass lawyer brother of yours."

"Can we please not talk about that steaming pile of shit?" I groaned, plopping myself down on the sofa opposite from my uncle. Trevor and I hadn't spoken in years. Most of our contact had stopped when I start dating _that asshole_ , but I didn't even know if I had his right cellphone number these days. Uncle Terry grumbled, his recliner squeaking as he stood up and stretched. He was my dad's twin. They were perfect replicas of each other, which would be easier to prove if my dad was alive. My dad died when I was 18 from a severe brain bleed. He was on his way to work when some jackass hit him sideways while he was waiting to turn at an intersection. My mom had left us when we were little, leaving us for some dreamboat boyfriend. I stayed in Tennessee to finish up college and that's when I met _him_ … and soon after _him_ , I graduated and went to the Law Enforcement Academy.

"Oh _stop that_ ," Terry snapped back. It was hard for me not to see my father when Terry spoke. They were too much alike. "He may be a little prick, but he's still the only family you got left, show 'em some respect." We sat in silence for a few minutes, my fingers drumming on the armrest of the couch. "How was your first day?"

"Pretty much bullshit," I answered, stretching my arms overhead. My eyes closed on their own. The couch felt so nice compared to the passenger seat of the squad car. It was nice to have a few moments without feeling like I was being examined by Shane Walsh.

"That bad?" I listened to the flick of his lighter. He took a long, slow draw of his joint before blowing it out around himself.

"Uncle Terry, you don't even understand. I had to follow around Deputy Walsh today while he showed me the main areas of town." He coughed through a laugh. Terry was well acquainted with Shane Walsh. He and Rick were the main officers to arrive when Terry was 'misbehaving.' He still wouldn't explain to me what those calls entailed, but I could imagine.

"Hey, I told you that the army was the place to be. You're the one who went off and took it a step further."

"Yeah, yeah…" I grumbled, eyes opening. Terry had tried to get me to join the military first, he said it'd be easier when I started police work. I couldn't wait. I didn't have the patience to wait it out any longer. Some part of me felt like becoming an officer was the easiest way to provide safety for myself. I didn't think I could handle having someone yelling in my face everyday either. A drill sergeant was surely going to make my stay at boot camp a rendition of Full Metal Jacket.

"It was only the first day, don't give up on it just yet."

After a much needed nap and shower, I began the tedious work of getting ready for the bar, pulling out a pair of dark jeans and a white t-shirt, something simple. I clipped my radio onto the belt before looking over my tanned skin, admiring how it popped out against my shirt. The amount of time I had spent outside was definitely paying off in a good way. Tipping to my side, I shook my curly mess of hair once more. The bar was insanely packed when I arrived. It was nothing more than your average dive bar, dark, reeking of alcohol, cigarettes and desperation. Those smells had began to smell like home to me. Casey gave a loud, sharp whistle when I made it inside. I smiled when he raised his beer up and motioned for me.

"I forgot how nicely you cleaned up," he laughed, sliding a frozen mug of beer before me.

"Not so bad yourself, _loser_ ," I replied, sinking onto the red leather stool at the bar. "Anyone else show up?" I asked, before giving the beer a small taste. I didn't really want to know who else was there, considering it would mean I would have to socialize, but I figured asking would prepare me.

"Nah. I didn't expect them too either. They can't handle the competition." He gave a wiggle of his eyebrows. Casey: chronic pester and chronic flirt.

"I'm _sure_ that was it. But in all reality, they just _couldn't_ stomach the exotic scenery of this bar," I teased, using my beer to point to the pool tables to the right of the entrance. Surrounding the pool tables were various ages of men and women. Each one appearing to be more inebriated then the next, cigarettes peppering everyone's hands, laughter rolling from their mouths at anything remotely humorous. It was the place to be in town.

"Don't kid yourself, Jen, they're afraid of both of us. And all of the guys think we're sleeping together." I felt the beer clog my throat and coughed, setting the mug down and trying not to slam it. He paused right after he spoke, placing his beer down on the bar for a second. Casey knew better than to think I would find that funny. Because it wasn't. I had worked damn hard.

"No," I replied.

"Yes," he quipped back, taking a long drink. Now, I knew Casey wasn't saying this just to get me angry. He was telling me because it was true. I shook my head. Unable to find the fun in drinking anymore.

"That's _not_ something I'm okay with." Just one more reason for someone to doubt my skills: 'oh, the only other girl in the group is sleeping the strongest guy to try and keep herself in the game, look at how soft and weak she is.' I felt the grip tighten on my mug.

" _Relax_ ," he murmured. "You don't think I know that?" He laid his hand on my arm and squeezed. Avoiding any and all eye contact with him, I positioned my body straight towards the back of the bar. Casey knew me well enough to know that I didn't like that kind of attention. And as much as I may have figured that the guys thought we were intimate… I couldn't handle actually hearing it. I had worked my ass off to get to where I was. I didn't need anyone's help. I didn't need pity. I had pushed myself through that academy and I was going to be damned if anyone thought it was just because of Casey that I had a job.

"I thought you came here to gloat about your big arrest, not gloat about how all of the guys think we're fucking." He released my arm and smiled, giving me a small shove. This man knew every single one of my darkest secrets, yet he always tried to make light of it.

"I wish you could have seen it," Casey laughed, taking a long drink.

"What happened?"

"We came across a drunk driver out on the highway, his BAC was about point sixteen. He was a hot damn mess, Jen. I mean, this guy – " he stopped to laugh. "This guy thought he was being chased after zombies! _Literal_ flesh eating _zombies_! I mean, it was just _too_ great. Hansen told him he was going take him somewhere safe, far away from his zombie friends." I smiled and finally brought myself to make eye contact with him again. His classic subject change. He was trying to keep me from losing my shit right in front of a bunch of strangers.

"Did you remember your Miranda Rights this time?" I teased. His mouth dropped into the most pathetic pout.

"You _just had_ to go there!"

"Did you?" I pressed. This was Casey's weakness.

"I remembered four of them," he admitted, looking down at his feet. I laughed and called for four shots of whiskey.

"That deserves four rewards."

"No, no, not tonight! I can't, I'm driving!" he exclaimed. The bartender smiled and placed the four shot glasses down before him.

"Too late, tough guy, I already put the glasses down," she teased, filling them up with my favorite amber colored liquid.

"Don't make her job harder, Casey! She's _already_ got the glasses down!" I shook him a little, wrapping my arm around his shoulders.

" _Please_ don't listen to this one right here," he added, pointing at me. "She's a very bad influence. She may look sweet and innocent, but she's just not. " The bartender just continued to smirk at him, pouring whiskey into the glasses. "Are you sweet and innocent? Because I'd _love_ to find that out." Rolling my eyes, I slid his number over on a piece of paper. I already knew what he was getting at. He was trying to pick her up. The sly ass he was. The door opened and closed behind us. I didn't motion to turn and look, but judging by the way Casey was talking, it was the rest of our group.

"Slap me," he whispered through a smile, his hand on my shoulder.

"What?" I asked, leaning back.

"Slap me," he whispered again, squeezing one more time, his smile fading slightly. " _And leave_." He took one of the shots quickly, his face scrunching up as he swallowed its contents.

"Are you out of your mind?" His brown eyes felt like microscopes. I felt so small in an already unfamiliar place. I tried to pick up on his reasoning, but in a matter of seconds I was trying to remember every conversation we had ever had.

"Morgan, if you don't slap me right now…" he broke off and looked over my shoulder, before his eyes landed on mine again. I pulled my hand from my beer and backhanded him across the jaw as hard as I could. " _Leave_ ," he growled. Confused, and unable to process what had just happened, I stalked towards the door, slack jawed. My shoulders directed themselves out of the way of the incoming crowd. I could feel them staring at my back as I pushed out of the door and into the street. I glanced down each way of the sidewalk before heading off to my Honda. Just after placing myself in the front seat, I felt my radio vibrate and a loud, overbearing noise fill the entire car.

"Jesus _fucking_ Christ!" I screamed, punching my horn. I calmly smoothed out my hair and rubbed my knuckles before bringing the radio to my mouth. My throat felt like it was on fire. "This is 407, over," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady and even.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: This chapter will contain some triggers relating to domestic violence, abuse, and underage abuse/assault. Again, I'm not a police officer, I know what I know by way of Google.**

**Some of the patrol codes you may need to know for this chapter:**

**10-57: Hit and run, 10-4: Copy/Acknowledged, 10-20: Location, 10-103: Send police units to (enter location), 10-16: Domestic problem, 10-9: Repeat, 10-3: Stop transmitting**

**Please enjoy! This chapter will start to pick the story up.**

**_10/27/16_ \- updates/add-ons/edited to match the story better**

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**CHAPTER**

**TWO**

 

 

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"407, there's a 10-57 in progress and deputy 276 is requesting your back-up," a bored sounding voice replied. "Do you copy?"

"10-4," Jennifer answered. "What's the 10-20?"

"Sherman and Oakridge," the voice responded. Her green eyes focused on the halfway lit street before her, drawing a mini map with her mind to pinpoint the location. She had to memorize a short map of the town before the interview process as a recruit. It was hard as hell, but she had managed through it enough.

"10-4," she repeated. She drove farther up the road to the gas station, taking her uniform from the trunk into the bathroom with her. There was a brief, awkward exchange between her and the clerk working behind the counter. She changed in the restroom, trying to keep her feet from touching the grimy floor as much as possible. Using her last elastic she tied her hair up, twisting it into a low, tight bun on her head. The thought of driving up on a hit and run in uniform, in her car made her cringe, but she remembered the choice she was given: _miss a call and you go home_. She strapped herself back into the front seat and drove off. Internally, she had an entire scene played out, a body on the ground, covered in blood, a car dented in, and a woman screaming for justice. When she arrived, she was greatly disappointed. At the scene, she found one lonely sheriff's car and Shane Walsh, standing next to an older woman and a dented up Buick that looked as old as Terry's house. Shane smiled to Jennifer as she stepped out of her car. The older, heavyset woman was wearing a pair of loose cotton shorts and a stretched out purple shirt.

"Good evenin', Morgan," Shane greeted her as she approached the two of them.

"Evening," Jennifer replied, smoothing out any flyways before her hands rested on her utility belt. She finally had the nerve to touch it. Placing her hands on it felt surreal. She fought the urge to smile, trying to keep a steady, even look on her face. She had no idea what really awaited her...

"Mrs. Johnson here was just makin' her nightly grocery stop when she came an' found her car all beat up to hell." The older woman nodded her head in agreement, the curlers on her head flopped with the motions. "I was figurin' you could go ahead an' ask all the routine questions." Mrs. Johnson smiled and extended her hand to Jennifer.

"Deputy Walsh tells me you'll be joinin' the force soon. We are so grateful to have you," Mrs. Johnson stated, her thick Southern accent coming out in a drawl. Jennifer smiled and took her hand with both of hers, giving it a warm pat. Her first actual victim was before her eyes. Some part was desperately praying for an actual case. It would be a great story to tell Casey later. Shane smiled, placing a toothpick in between his teeth, watching them both with curiosity.

"Thank you so much, ma'am, I am happy to be here." Jennifer straightened out a bit and looked between her, Shane, and the vehicle, trying to keep her smile. "Can you tell me what time you got here this evening?"

"Well, let's see… Robert went to bed around 8:30, I usually feed the cats and leave the house around 9:30. So I usually make it here around 10:15."

"How long were you in the store for?" Jennifer asked, scribbling the notes down on a small notepad she kept in her breast pocket of her uniform.

"Maybe 45 minutes to an hour?" The recruit nodded. She gave a quick glance to the roof of the building scanning for any cameras. Shane smiled and scanned the building with her, already knowing there were none.

"I'll tell you what, I'm going to go inside and see if they have any cameras set up out here. If not, I'm going to look at the cameras inside, see if I can find out anyone who was in that store at the same time. I'll figure out who did this to you, Mrs. Johnson. But you go ahead and head on home now, I'll call you tomorrow with any details." She did her best to sound sincere, unfamiliar with how to speak to a victim or anyone while she was dressed in uniform. They had learned all about it in school, but it was completely different to do it for real.

"Why thank you, young lady. I would much appreciate that." Shane smiled and motioned to help her into her vehicle, shutting the door behind her.

"Have a nice night, ma'am," he spoke, giving her head nod and that sideways smile of his. He and Jennifer made eye contact and her smile fell almost immediately. She turned on her heel without waiting for him and directed herself towards the building. Something about the way he was treating her and the case he called her for felt demeaning. It felt like a stab at her intelligence. She could feel it in the way he allowed her to handle the case. Not once speaking to Jennifer about anything in specific. She noticed it when he turned to look at the building for cameras with her. It was a smugness that she was used to. She was an expert at spotting it.

"There something you need to say to me, Walsh?" Jennifer asked over her shoulder as they headed towards the doors of the store.

"Nothin' that I can think of," he answered. Her tongue slipped to the side of her mouth. Rage pooled in her chest, it flushed its way up her neck and cheeks. She knew it was time to trust her instincts. She didn't earn these instincts on a whim. "What were ya out doin' this time of night when ya knew it was your night on call?" The heat flared. Why did he need to know? And why was it his business? She stopped just before the automatic doors. So the news had finally made its way up the ranks, Morgan and Brown, the duo. _The sexual duo_.

"I'm 25 years old, Walsh. _A girl not able to get a drink?_ Or go see a friend?" He smiled, his eyebrows raised. He definitely wasn't expecting that answer. She had proven herself to be full of surprises. "Who says I wasn't even at home to begin with?"

"Let's not play pretend, Morgan. We both know you weren't at home. An' we both know you're daddy _wasn't_ a cop." The smile left his face and the heat left hers. She could feel the coolness, whatever part of it existed the Georgia air. His expression became serious in a matter of seconds. "I looked it up, ya know. I don't know how ya didn't think I _wasn't_ gonna look it up. A daughter of a police force veteran, becomin' a cop, that's _pretty impressive_. I just couldn't work out why in the world she would wanna leave her hometown an' not stay where the respect an' pride that came with that." He leaned up against the brick wall of the store, eyes narrowed as he looked out into the parking lot they had just walked through. Jennifer felt her jaw go slack as she side stepped for a few customers to enter. "Any more lies ya feel like ya need to tell?" If there was one thing Shane Walsh couldn't stomach, it was the stories of a liar.

"No," she answered. "I just wouldn't expect you to understand. But that's okay, because in your eyes, I'm just sleeping with Brown to keep myself here, _right_? That's the answer _you_ wanted, _wasn't it_? You wanted to hear me say it. I was out fucking Brown until he couldn't fucking see straight."

"Would ya like ta keep your voice down?" he asked lowly, trying to save face and smile for a few passerby's. "I don't give a rat's ass what it is you like to do outside your job, but ya don't fuckin' lie to me. _Got me?_ " He took two steps and was standing before her. "One day, when shit _really_ hits the fan, you'll be with me, holdin' a loaded gun, and protectin' _my ass_. How am I supposed to know you'll protect me when I can't even get an honest answer out of you?" She bit on the inside of her lip, trying to keep any and all tears inside. He spoke the truth. The job was dangerous. There was too much to worry about. He didn't have time to be concerned with a girl and her stories. He needed the reassurance that he was going to be protected. How could he expect that by someone who couldn't even give a straight answer about their past? "I'll start callin' ya out on real calls when I know I can trust you, but until then, prepare yourself for any an' every bullshit call you can imagine. Mrs. Johnson calls once a week about that goddamn Buick. If I wasn't an honest man I would have had that car towed into the nearest pond. She's been tryin' like hell to get a new car from her insurance company, this economy is rippin' everyone in this city down. She goes out an' beats the thing to hell on every Monday night. Then every Monday night, like clockwork, she calls, sayin' someone hit her vehicle an' took off. But ya know what? That ain't my problem, so get your ass inside _an' do your job_."

"But you just said…" Jennifer started.

"I didn't say shit _. It ain't my problem._ Now get in there," he barked, pushing her inside.

 

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The bullshit calls lasted for about a month. Even if Shane wasn't working overnight, he made sure the officer on duty knew to call her all calls with no meaning. He considered it her payback for lying to him. Their schedules had finally rotated into them working at least one night shift a week. Shane made sure to schedule her for Mondays, just to deal with the repeat 10-57. She finished up her most recent spell with Mrs. Johnson who had become increasingly rude with each week. Jennifer groaned as she shut the door the squad car after being called an incompetent nobody who 'didn't know her ass from a hole in the wall.' Deputy Hansen smiled at her.

"I really _don't_ wanna know what you did to piss off Walsh so badly, but try to keep yourself out of his sight for the next few weeks," Hansen teased before pulling the car into drive. Hansen had been around long enough to know how the recruits were treated.

"10 _fucking_ 4," Jennifer replied, pulling her hair down. Using her hands, she shook the curls out before returning them to their proper place. Over the last four weeks she had been called over a literal cat in a tree, barking dogs, a potential UFO sighting, and a slew of other bogus incidents. While she was out being called to these bogus incidents, Casey out making arrests, making a name for himself.

"We'll go sit up by the church and try to catch some speeders, okay? Try to bring your spirits up."

"Bring my spirits up?" Hansen scoffed at the woman's counter, watching as she meticulously pulled her dark curly hair back into a high ponytail.

"Brown told me all about your obsession with the radar gun."

"Of course he did."

"Ya know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you two were a couple. He can't seem to shut up about you."

"Brown's like that with everyone," Jennifer replied, giving him a wave of her hand as she watched the dark, empty fields pass by them. "It's only because no one else around here has seen him as shit faced as I have."

"It's alright ya know? It's alright if you two are-" Apparently the incident at the bar with Jennifer slapping Casey before everyone had done nothing to calm the rumors. The rumors of them became even more intense, saying that Jennifer had only slapped Casey because he was flirting with the bartender. It made her on edge with everyone who spoke to her about it. She could hear the women in the store talking about her while she waited to pay for her things. She could hear the women sniggering about it in the break room. It was a gut-clenching feeling.

"We're _not_ like that." Her reply came out more sternly then it was intended to, but Hansen didn't seem to mind. They came to a stop beside the church, pulling into a dark corner of the parking lot. Hansen handed the radar gun over to her and propped his feet up on the dash. She shifted in the seat, trying to get comfortable with the device in her hands. After a few long minutes of silence, she rolled her window down, allowing some of the soft night breeze to roll through the car. "So how's he been doing?" she asked, she couldn't resist the urge to ask. Casey had been working on Saturday night shift and they had barely been able to see each other besides the morning conferences at the station before day shift started. He had begun dating the bartender from the bar and Jennifer had been too preoccupied with not making herself a nuisance to Walsh on top of helping Terry fix up the outside of his house.

"Have an argument or something?" Hansen teased. Jennifer rolled her eyes, giving Hansen a knowing look that sent him into a fit of laughter. "Oh, _stop_ , I am allowed to tease, ya know?"

"No, I just haven't been able to see him."

"He's been making a name for himself, that's for sure. Made his second arrest last week with me, he wanted me to make sure I told you that he remembered _all five_ of his Miranda Rights this time." Jennifer smiled, but the mention of his second arrest brought the past month of her own to head. He was being called into domestic disputes, robberies, and thefts. A part of her envied him, but he was her best and only friend, it was hard not to feel proud of him at the same time.

"You didn't help him?" she prodded. Hansen laughed.

"He told me ya'd ask that. I swear, if the two of ya didn't tell anyone, we'd all think the both of y'all were married." Hansen's dimples appeared even deeper in the dim light of the dashboard.

Hours passed with no sign of life aside from their own. Not even a single animal scurried before their patrol car. Hansen drove them back off to the station, stopping to buy coffee on the way. Jennifer bought a RedBull and some jerky, praying for the next eight hours to go by with no incident. She groaned at Casey in the morning meeting when he bounced around her. She stuffed another square of jerky into her mouth and shuffled at a snail's pace to the rows of chairs.

"How was last night?" he asked, handing her a yeast doughnut as they sat in the back row.

"Fan- _fucking_ -tastic. I couldn't have asked for a better night," she replied sarcastically. His eyebrows rose with hope, he sat on the edge of his chair, ready to hang onto every word she spoke. "It was fucking horrible. Don't ask me again," she barked, folding her legs over one another.

"Alright killjoy," he murmured under a sip of coffee. Sheriff Grimes announced the recruit and veteran line ups and Jennifer felt her insides roll after learning she was going to spend another day in the company of Shane. "Just try and have a good day. Think about all the awesome stories you'll have to tell to your grandkids." He gave her a quick squeeze on the arm, leaving her in her own company as he headed off to meet Hansen for the day. Jennifer sat, glaring at the blue thread of the cloth seat before her. She continued to sit, wondering if she could somehow will her body to sink down into the chair beneath her. At this point, she was willing to do anything to avoid Shane Walsh for a few days. Her green eyes closed then jerked open as the room was filled with a sharp, quick whistle.

"Let's get this day started, Morgan," Shane yelled, clapping his hands together. She pulled herself from the chair, wishing could spout off every cuss word she knew. "You'll drive." He dropped the keys into her hands and she felt the jolt of adrenaline pull her from the fog of the morning. They had barely spoken to each other since their incident at the store with Mrs. Johnson, nothing more than formalities and work talk. After slipping into the patrol car he had picked for them, she drove them out through the town not really knowing where she was supposed to go. "Head towards the highway."

"Are we doing radar patrols today?" she asked. He gave a quick nod.

"Find a good spot and post us up." He fiddled with the stations on the radio before settling on an older classic rock station.

 

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I pulled into what I thought would be the best spot. When I got no response from Shane, I rolled the windows down and turned the car off. Shane made no inclination as to move when the car was shut off. I glanced between him and the radar gun after a few moments and finally picked it up myself. The sun felt unbearable and I hadn't even been standing out in it yet. I made a point to pull on my large brimmed hat and aviators before stepping out of the car with the radar gun. I positioned myself with the radar gun over the roof, pointing it at the traffic coming up behind us. Even though aviators protected my eyes, I still had to squint, trying to focus on the fast moving masses of vehicles blowing past us.

"Should'a put us under an overpass," Shane spoke from inside the car.

"I'm in the dip of the hill, they aren't going to see me in enough time to slow down," I argued back, spreading my legs into a wider stance. The radar gun felt heavier in the heat, and I couldn't find a great place to support myself on the car with the circular death ball of UV rays bearing down on the metal.

"In the heat like this, you should'a put us under an overpass. Your arms are gonna fry after an hour or so of that." I dipped down to look at him inside the car, looking at the wide, cocky position of his legs. He pulled another toothpick up to his mouth and I resisted the intense urge I had to rip it from his mouth and snap it in half. I knew he was right, but I was stubborn and pissed. This was the most Shane had spoken to me in almost a week. If I was going to get sunburned I was going to show it off with pride. Even if I was stupid enough not to listen to him.

"Like you give a damn," I muttered, trying to focus on the numbers on the radar gun as I stood back up.

"Do you even remember the speed limit through here?" he asked. I could feel the pricks up my spine. The scrutiny. The condescension. I bit on my lower lip once again, trying to focus on Terry and the _real_ reasons I decided to become a police officer. I had let Shane dick me around enough, I wasn't going to let him ruin the last half of my orientation. I had to prove myself.

"It's 60," I answered. I knew my voice didn't sound very even, but I was doing my damn best when I just wanted to shout at full force.

"What do we write tickets for?"

"70 and over."

"Who gets a warning?" he asked the same questions in the same asshole-ish tone I had come to loathe over the last month.

"67 to 69."

"Do you even know how to issue a proper ticket?" I breathed in and out deeply, closing my eyes. Shane opened and closed the door, stepping out to stand on the other side of the car. He pulled his aviators off and squinted at me from over the roof of the car. I could feel the challenge. But I wasn't the same girl anymore. These challenges didn't come with baseball bats and beatings. At least not without a fight on my end. Finally, I placed the radar gun in the front seat, having heard enough of the bullshit. My self control made me place it down rather than throw it across the car, even though I really, really, really, wanted to fucking it throw it. I didn't come all this way to feel like I did all of those years ago. A police officer that I was going to be working with was not going to make me feel the way he did. He just wasn't. No one was going to make me feel that way again.

"Listen here you piece of shit," I started off. The short burst of memories from my past knotted up my insides. I could feel the pressure as it tied off my lungs and airway. He stepped back in shock, raising a finger at me. He opened his mouth, but I quickly cut him off. "I don't know who the fuck you think you are – " Just when I felt myself get started, our radios began to squawk.

"Attention, 10-103, units required at Horizon Way Apartments, we have a 10-16. 10-9, we have a 10-16 at Horizon Way Apartments, 10-3," the same typical bored voice stated. Shane looked at me wide-eyed.

"Get in the damn car, Morgan," he barked, sitting down inside the car heavily. My feet suddenly didn't know what to do with themselves, I tried to make myself move, but I just couldn't. A domestic violence case? Today? On a Tuesday? How was that even possible? Who got into arguments like this on a Tuesday morning? "Morgan!" Shane called from inside. "Get in this _damn_ car!" I sat down beside him and shut the door. "Turn _on_ the sirens, turn _on_ the car, let's fuckin' _go_!" My hands finally found themselves able to move, I turned the ignition over and flipped the sirens on simultaneously. I pulled my seat belt on with my free hand, using my left hand to guide the car out onto the highway. Everything felt like a rush and a blur. Shane was talking on his radio, but I had no idea what he was even saying. I focused on trying to keep my past at bay, concentrating on what was happening now, just like my counselor had taught me. _The past is no longer happening. The past is gone._ The engine roared as I pushed it to its breaking point, speeding at 100 to 120 mph to find the exit closest to the apartment complex. Slowing just enough to make the exit safely, I pulled us off the highway and onto a main road, whipping in and out of cars, sirens blaring over our heads. We arrived at the scene and found two other squad cars. "Don't think I've forgotten about our talk we were havin' a few minutes ago. It's not done yet."

"Sha- Walsh, I'm sorry," I spoke.

"Don't do anything fuckin' stupid," he quipped. I hung my head for a moment before unbuckling my seat belt. I was in deep shit. "Let's go." We got out of the car together and hurried towards the complex, guns drawn, down at our sides. As we neared the complex, I could hear the sobs already and felt every hair on my body stand at attention. _The past is no longer happening. The past is gone._ We found the door on the bottom level, it was kicked in, splinters were scattered across the entryway. Entering, we heard loud cussing under the heavy sobs. Rounding the short entryway, I found Casey standing over a handcuffed male, blood gushing from his forehead, thrashing and cussing out every obscenity in the book to my friend. Casey had his foot on the man's back, his gun drawn, pointing at his head. Deputy Lawson stood in the background, talking on his radio hurriedly for an ambulance.

"Jen," he hissed, making eye contact with me. " _Get out_." I caught myself wanting to take in every part of the situation, the bloody mess on the wall that I assumed the perpetrator's head had bounced off of to the broken glass on the carpeted floor, the continued wailing cries in the next room. _The past is no longer happening. The past is gone._ "You shouldn't be here," he hissed again. Casey made eye contact with Shane behind me. "Get her out of here," Casey spoke to Shane. I knew what Casey was doing, or rather trying to do. He knew how bad my triggers were. But I couldn't resist.

"All units were called, Brown," Shane answered him, giving him a warning stare as he sheathed his gun. I did the same.

"What happened in here?" I asked cautiously. I was pretty sure I didn't want to hear the answer, judging by the looks of things. Casey's eyes shifted away from mine. He stared off at what I assumed was the blood stained wall. I could tell by the way he was looking away from me that he really didn't want me in there, but he didn't understand. He didn't know the urges that drove me to want to go into that apartment. The urges that made me want to take the man handcuffed on the floor outside and beat him until he was no longer conscious. I knew he was worried I was going to trigger, but I was filled with so much rage that I could barely breathe.

"The perp was caught trying to rape his eleven year old daughter by the mother. When she tried to stop him, he began to assault them." _The past is no longer happening. The past is gone._ I felt lightheaded, a confusing dance of nausea and rage. If I had been the first to arrive, there would be have no real guarantee that the man below Casey would be alive.

"Where are the mom and daughter?" His brown eyes shut and he swallowed. When he opened his eyes, I knew he was going to tell me to leave again, but I simply held my hand up, giving him a simple warning to not ask again.

"With Hansen and Kline in the daughter's room." I nodded and started to make my way into the apartment to see how I could help. "Jen, _please,_ don't go in there…" he pleaded. Any other time, I would have listened.

"I have to," I told him, pulling myself up a little taller.

"No, you don't. Hansen and Kline are in there." I heard another sob and my heart felt like if it pumped any harder that I was going to pass out. The combination of things happening was sensory overload for me.

"I have to," I repeatedly sternly. My lungs struggled to take in another breath as I crunched my way down the hallway of broken glass. Rounding the corner, I found the officers huddled over the women, applying gauze to their faces to contain the bleeding. I could barely make out a face on the eleven year old. Both of her eyes were swollen shut. Bile rose in the back of my throat. A flash of my own face in the hospital shook me back to the now. I swallowed and entered the room. _The past is no longer happening. The past is gone._ I tried to think of anything and everything not related to myself in that moment, forcing myself to look at her. This was my job now. And this little girl needed me.

"W-wh-who's that?" the girl cried.

"It's Deputy Morgan," I answered. "You're safe. He's not going to hurt you anymore," I told her. I caught myself from saying that he would never hurt her again and walked towards her. Little did this girl know that the pain would last for years down the road. I wasn't going to lie to her and say he would never hurt her again, because he would. Maybe not physically, but mentally. The residual triggers would last for years and I prayed deep down that she would find some way to control them. Everyone had their vices to quiet the memories inside of them. If you were lucky you wouldn't find one that was self-destructive. "I'm going to take over for Deputy Hansen so that he can call in some more help. Is that okay?" I asked cautiously. She gave a sheepish nod. Hansen squeezed her into a hug before rising.

"If you need me, you yell for me, I'll be just in the next room," he told her. "But I promise that my friend Morgan over here is just as nice as I am." On his way out, he patted my shoulder and left the room. I sat in the same place Hansen was sitting in and wrapped my arm around the girl. I had never so badly wanted to trade places with a human being before. She struggled to breathe as another wave of sobs came over her. Tears threatened to fall and I closed my eyes, shushing her, combing my right hand through her golden hair. _The past is no longer happening. The past is gone._

"You're safe now," I whispered. I said it for the both of us. She began to rock and I found myself doing the same. "You're safe." I felt that familiar scrutiny on me and opened my eyes for a moment to find Shane in the doorway. Ignoring him, I returned to my regimen and fought the urge to stand up and have it out with him right before everyone. This little girl was more important to me right now. After some time, Hansen entered the room again and pried the girl from my grip.

"The ambulance is here now," he told her, folding his arms around her tiny frame. "They're going to take you to the hospital with your mom." The paramedics came in behind Hansen with a small stretcher. "This bed is only to help you get to the hospital safely. And these two women are my friends too! They're nice, just like Morgan." The paramedics smiled warmly and helped the girl into the stretcher. They made special care not to touch in her certain areas and not do anything without asking first. No one needed to ask me for my permission when they unloaded my unconscious body onto the stretcher those years ago. With that reality, I found my mantra had cracked and fallen.

"We're Ashley and Lauren, and we're going to help you get to the hospital today. Would you tell us who you are, little miss?" one of the paramedics asked.

"Sarah," the girl replied as Hansen helped her get onto the bed.

"I _love_ that name!" the other paramedic replied. "I wish that was _my_ name!" Sarah smiled softly for the first time. "I have a special teddy bear I want you to hold for me, okay? His name is Rufus. He's had a bad day too. I think you two could both use someone to talk to." A fuzzy white teddy bear was placed into her lap gently. The girl put her hand on the soft white fur, combing it in the same direction on its belly. _The past is no longer happening. The past is -_

"Take care, Sarah, I will see you at the hospital soon," Hansen told her with a smile. "Your mom is already in the ambulance waiting for you." He squeezed her hand as the stretcher was raised and she was escorted out. For the first time since Sarah and I had separated, I glanced around the room, noting that the mom and Kline were gone. "Very nice work today, Morgan." He gave me that dazzling smile of his and walked out of the room. Sitting on the tiny bed in Sarah's room, I took in the sight. Bloodied hand prints lined the wall near the headboard. The pink Mickey Mouse sheets were twisted into a ball at the foot the bed. I glanced down at the bloodied picture frame at my feet and could no longer keep myself together. This wasn't how I expecting it go. Seeing these things made my vision tinge red with anger. There was so much I was angry at. _The past is no -_ I felt my body being slammed into the wall. I could feel _his_ hands snaking up around my waist, tearing off whatever clothing I had tried to use to keep _him_ away from me. The more I fought him off, the more he laughed. Why did I have to see this today? My eyes began to water and I choked onto a sob. Shane appeared in the doorway of Sofia's room, he looked ready for a fight, ready to hash out our previous conversation. I choked onto another cry and held my hand up.

"Please don't," I blubbered, wiping tears away with my free hand. Nausea reared its ugly head as I recalled the scalding water to my thigh, the blow to my face. That damn baseball bat. His eyebrows softened and he took a step into the room. " _Don't_ ," I repeated, much harsher. If there was one thing I didn't need, it was Shane's pity.

"Do you want me to get Brown?" he asked. _The past is no longer -_ I shook my head and practiced the breathing that I was taught with my mantra. Deep breath in, slow deep breath out. Casey wasn't around every time I had a trigger. I knew how to handle them pretty well without him most days. "Are you sure?"

"Stop – " I inhaled and exhaled deeply. " _Talking_." The tears that formed on the bottoms of my eyes retreated. _He's no longer here_ , I repeated, over and over again. _He can't hurt you_. But he still is. He's not even here and here I am…

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"I _really_ thought I said stop talking," I replied, my voice in a borderline shout. I took in one last deep breath and stood up, exhaling as I did so. "He's not here," I whispered, stepping out of the room. _The past is no longer happening. The past is gone._ I walked out of the apartment without looking at anyone, watching as various men and women with the evidence team ran in. Without even thinking, I threw the keys to the squad car into the driver's seat and plopped down into the passenger seat. I pulled the lever up on the chair and sat back as far as I possibly could, closing my eyes in the process. The other door opened and I felt the shift of the car as another body got in, then the hard slam. No doubt it was Shane.

"We're not leavin' this parkin' lot until you tell me what the hell that was about." I sighed, rolling my head over to look at him. Swallowing hard, I looked at my hands, picking at the already ruined cuticles around my nails.

"I was abused by my ex-boyfriend in college. He would beat me on a regular basis. One night he knocked me unconscious. I almost didn't even graduate." I felt the hot tears on my cheeks. Shane kept his gaze on the radio, nothing moving but his chest. "The summer before my senior year, he broke my arm, and put fifty stitches in my head. I don't remember anything except the baseball bat to my head, then waking up in the hospital." Embarrassed, I wiped the tears from my face with the palms of my hands. _The past is no longer happening. The past is gone._ In that moment, I wanted to do nothing more but find a bar and drink myself to the floor. Trevor's face that night I woke up in the hospital haunted my mind. It was the last memory I had of him.

"That's why you became a cop," Shane spoke after what felt like an eternity. I looked him with a pained expression, feeling like I had just laid my guts out on the table for his microscopic pleasure.

"You tell one person at this police station what I just told you, and I will – " The sudden reality of what I had done slapped me so hard in the face. Shane now knew the deepest secret to my being, and here I was, trying to make sure no one knew about it. I wasn't even sure I could trust Shane.

"It's okay," Shane stopped me, quickly, his voice barely above a whisper. "You don't have worry about me tellin' anyone, Jennifer." I leaned back in the seat and prayed I didn't have to.

 

* * *

 

Trevor Morgan was placed on the edge of a stiff, standard recliner in the intensive care room they placed his little sister, Jennifer Morgan into. He rubbed his bloodshot eyes with one hand, the other holding his bouncing knee steady. His dark hair was not gelled and perfect in his classic taper cut, it was wild and wavy, worn with hours of worry. He had taken the first flight out of Dallas to Chattanooga when he got the phone call about Jennifer. There was no time to pack a suitcase, the only thing he made a point of grabbing was his notes about domestic abuse trials and typical sentencing. The nurse walked in and he stood up immediately. "Are you _sure_ she's not in any pain?" Trevor spoke, barely audible over a steady beeping of the monitors. He had been sitting for hours, watching over her as she rested.

"We gave her a pretty heavy sedative when we sutured up the wound on her head. She's comfortable," the nurse replied. She gave him a small genuine smile before setting off in the task of collecting her vital signs. He walked over to his little sister and brushed a few stray curls from her face with the lightest touch he could manage.

"How much longer until the sedation wears off?" Nothing irritated him more than sitting and watching her sleep. He needed to tell her he was there. He needed to make sure she knew.

"It works differently on everyone. She may out until tomorrow or she may wake up in an hour or so. She's had a rough evening, Mr. Morgan. Right now it's best to let her body sleep and rest on it's on terms."

"I just don't want to see her like this," he choked. "I should have protected her better. Work has eaten up so much of my time, I had no idea what was going on. That son of a bitch wouldn't let me talk to my own sister. Why did I let him control me too?"

"It sounds like you're feeling responsible for what happened to your sister."

"I'm her big brother _. I should have been there for her!_ If I would have been there none of this would have happened."

"Mr. Morgan, your feelings right now are completely natural, but please understand something for me – when she wakes up, she's going to be doing the same thing you are: _blaming herself_. She's going to need a lot of support in the few days, and the next year or so. Repercussions from domestic violence can last for years. She's got to find herself again. And you've got to help her. Help her _now_ , don't think about what you could have done."

"I don't know anything about her."

"You know more than you think, don't give up on her so easily." He gripped the bed rail and fought the urge to cry. He bit down on his lower lip and choked back a sob.

"I'm going to make that bastard pay. He's going to rot in a fucking cell for the rest of his life. The rest of his life," he emphasized the last part. "He almost took the last bit of my family from me. I'm going to take away his freedom," Trevor spat.

"It's natural to have these feelings at the moment, but you shouldn't focus on that. You should focus on Jennifer."

"I'm going to fight for her," he bit back. The nurse opened her mouth to speak again, but didn't. She nodded and patted Jennifer's hand. Trevor pulled his hands up to his face and slowly wiped the sadness from them. "I'm sorry. I just need to sleep." He unbuttoned his dress shirt and rested it on the side of Jennifer's bed. "I haven't slept in over twenty four hours," he gave a short laugh as he spoke, pulling his undershirt from his pants.

"I'll let you both rest. Tomorrow will be a big day for the both of you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Okay, so I didn't read through this as thoroughly as what I usually do. So forgive me for any and all mistakes. I tried to catch as many as I could. There isn't much action this chapter until the end. Remember what I said about that slow burn?**

**The title of this story was named after the song "Shameful Metaphors" by Chevelle. Which by the way, if you haven't heard it, it's an amazing song!**

**Things will gradually pick up over the next few chapters when the zombie invasion happens, etc. Be patient, please! Good things come to those who wait! ;) Please enjoy!**

**10/28/16 - some edits made, some story line added to help the flow of the story**

* * *

 

 

**CHAPTER**

**THREE**

 

 

* * *

 

The alarm screamed in my ear next to me and I jammed my finger down on the silence button, debating whether or not to sleep in a few extra hours. I was tired as hell, but Judgment Day had finally came, Rick and Shane were to make their final choices out of our group. We had waited for this day, I was dreading it. I didn't want to know what Shane had written down on my final form. I could only imagine. Dragging myself to the shower, I heard a familiar voice come from downstairs. I stopped midway in the frame of the doorway to the bathroom and listened for a moment more. When I finally heard his distinct laugh I threw myself out of my room and down the stairs. I hadn't heard that laugh in the longest time.

"Our princess is awake," Terry laughed. I stumbled into the kitchen to find Trevor standing at the counter, holding a giant Starbucks cup in his hands. Trevor was always the show-off between the both of us. He was constantly finding some way to flaunt his money.

"Hey sis," Trevor spoke, seeming as cool and calm like we had only just seen each other yesterday. He was dressed like he had just stepped out of GQ magazine, his hair gelled back, beard freshly trimmed, a fitted midnight blue suit, with a white shirt and sea green colored tie. I told you, he liked to flaunt his money. Terry was holding a Starbucks cup too and I immediately felt the betrayal, all thanks to a white cup and a green fucking mermaid. "Brought you one too." He held up an extra cup on the counter and held it out.

"I'm good," I replied, holding my hand up. Everything about his very existence was irritating me down to my very core. I wanted nothing more than to vomit and pour his coffee down his suit. "What the fuck are you doing here, Trevor?" I asked, looking at Terry rather than my brother. Terry opted to look at the floor instead, taking a shameless sip of his coffee as I spoke. I didn't expect him to fight my battles for me, but I certainly didn't expect Terry to welcome in with open arms.

"Terry called me, he said you would find out if you got your first job or not today. Thought I would come out and celebrate." I shut my eyes for a moment, remembering our last conversation, us hashing it out on the couch before the trial. We had called each other so many names. There was no closure to that argument. Trevor had somehow completely manipulated the trial so that I didn't have to give a statement and that I would never have to be in the same room with him. Even though I really wanted to. I wanted to go on that stand and make him listen to every single thing had done to me. I wanted to show him the sutures in my head. Mostly, I just wanted to show I wasn't afraid of him anymore. The next day, after we won, Trevor left. Not so much as a goodbye or nice work. He just boarded his fucking plane and left. I didn't know what I had been expecting, but the argument we had gotten into haunted me for a long time. He called me a charity case. He told me that I should have reached out for help before it had gotten to this point. Trevor essentially blamed me for everything that had happened without really realizing he had done so. It wasn't like I already didn't find it all to be my fault.

"I wasn't under the impression that you two spoke."

"Come on, Jen, don't be like this today. Can't we put shit behind us? We both said a lot we didn't mean." I shifted my weight onto my hip and glared at him. How in the hell! How?! "I'm _sorry_."

"You said all that shit to me and left, Trevor. It's taken you a year and a half to apologize to me for it." Terry cleared his throat and looked between us. "That's _really_ fucking special. It really is. Apology accepted, now go find another fucking charity case. That's all I _am remember_? Your little sister, the 'charity case'. Take your apology and go _fuck yourself_ ," I spat. "And take that fucking Starbucks with you." Trevor's green eyes bore into mine. I watched his jaw shift and he sat his coffee down. Apparently I had struck a nerve with him. It was bothering him more than he was letting on, at least that's what I was telling myself. It was going to take more than a weak ass apology and some coffee to clear up our mess. What he had said to me was borderline unforgivable.

"I don't know what happened here between you two, but he's apologizing to you now, Jen," Terry spoke, stepping into my view of Trevor.

"You have no idea what he said to me that night, Terry. No idea whatsoever. You should have left him out of it. You know I didn't want him to know anything! I didn't want him to even know where I was! I asked you not to tell him a damn thing!"

"Yeah, _I know you did_ ," Terry bit back, raising his voice a hair. "You're brother and sister, you're going to fight like cats and dogs. It's completely natural! You want to know how many times your dad and I came to blows? _More times than I could count._ But, you're family. You're the only ones left when I leave this planet and who knows when that could be. Think about how fast your dad was taken from us." I bowed my head, thinking back to my father. Trevor was in law school then, I was the only one at home when the police came by to tell me what happened. It was so late in the day, I had been out mowing the lawn when I watched them pull into the driveway. And somehow I already knew what they were going to tell me, just by the looks on their faces. I already knew they were going to tell me my father was dead. When I called Trevor, I could barely speak, one of the other officers had to tell him.

"I know I said a lot of shit, Jen. A lot of mean and demeaning shit, but I've done a lot of research now. I'm smarter about it all. I've actually been able to help a lot of women in the same situation as you in Dallas. And I just wanted to show support for you. I just wanted to apologize. I'm here now, _remember_? That's what matters," Trevor spoke. I continued to stare at the flooring, looking over the old, worn yellowed tiles beneath our feet. I thought about how I felt in that moment, knowing how damaged our family was on top everything else I had going on. This was my brother and he had no idea what was going with me. He didn't know the troubles I still faced everyday. It broke my heart. It broke my heart when he wasn't around. I had Casey and Terry to depend on. And as much as I loved them, there was only so much you could tell someone without aggravating them. "You don't have to speak to me, you don't even have to tell people who I am - I'd just like to watch you be sworn into their service." He was trying.

"Alright," I replied. "And then we drink a lot. I don't think I can stomach to look at you without some type of whiskey." Trevor's face cracked into a smile. Terry shook his head and glanced at his dwindling bar in the corner. Terry and I had consumed a lot of his alcohol while working on the house. It was our thing. We had no shame in it.

"But we're going _out_ to drink. And _you're_ paying," Terry tacked on, pointing at Trevor as he left the kitchen. Trevor looked between him and then me.

"Here I am, the biggest asshole in our little trio. I'm out there, all on my own, then, I come into town and you both just abuse me for money. I guess I deserve it, huh?" he asked sheepishly. I smiled at this. This was just how our family was. We were constantly harassing each other about something. It was our way of showing affection.

"Oh shut up you big loser," I teased as he unbuttoned the front of his suit. I rolled my eyes. "And then to pull off your asshole ways, you seriously wore a suit to come watch me be sworn in. Trevor, there's not even a guarantee that I'll get this position." The smell of coffee teased my senses and I could no longer keep my pride at bay. I held out my hand and Trevor placed my cup in it, no smart ass remarks or looks.

"Now it's your turn to shut up," he spoke, pointing his finger at me. "We both know that if anyone deserves one of those spots it's your ass."

"You don't know what I've been putting up with."

"Do I need to sue someone?" he asked, taking a long swig of his coffee. Rolling my eyes, I looked at him, one eyebrow raised. Trevor really needed to work on his threatening skills. This sounded like a grade A insult you would use in the fifth grade, not a thirty something year old accomplished lawyer.

"Do you know how you sound right now?"

"Like a lawyer?"

"Like a scheming business man."

"Guess I should re-read my Scheming Lawyer Handguide then, because I definitely should have sounded more lawyer than business man." I couldn't hide the laughter anymore. Smiling, I sat the coffee down on the counter and threw my arms around my much taller and athletic brother. I buried my face into his suit, catching a whiff of his cologne. Things were normal. How badly I craved normal. "I've missed you, _you little brat_ ," he added on, giving me a big squeeze.

"You too," I told him, squeezing him hard before I broke away from him. I thanked him for the coffee and glanced at the clock… afterwards, I ran myself upstairs and jumped into the shower, preparing myself for the major day ahead.

I stood in the shower for an abnormal amount of time, looking back at the last two months of my life. Especially the last month leading up to this day. After my breakdown in front of Shane, he released his claws out of my back, allowing me to take actual cases on. I had spent a lot of time being able to help in arrests, takedowns, and car chases. It felt surreal. Those first few days I had been scared shitless, fearing that Shane would smell out of my fear and push me right back into my former duties, but he didn't. Shane and I spent one night patrol out walking the streets downtown. I had never even expected him to let me do that with him. We had been able to talk a little about what the job was really like aside from the fucking UFO calls and that Buick. He showed me how to fill out paperwork properly, what a legitimate take-down was like. I made it a point to add some make-up to my face, opting for a soft pastel pink eyeshadow with brown eyeliner and mascara. I pulled on the all brown uniform we were instructed to wear, with black boots. While my hair was still wet, I tamed into a tight, smooth bun on the back of my head, making sure I was still able to situate my hat on my head without looking weird.

Together, we loaded up into Trevor's rental car, and headed off for the police station. At the police station, we could barely find a place to park. Trevor parked in the grass near the front of the building as Hansen instructed him from the small grassy yard in front of the police station. The three of us clamored out and I found Casey across the way with his girlfriend, Megan, and his parents. I smiled and waved to them, Casey giving me an awkward look to the model-ish brother of mine. Casey and Trevor had never met before. Trevor didn't even know about Casey. Trevor was too busy looking around at the surrounding area, not noticing all of the awkward stares as people walked by him. Hansen caught onto the exchange and slowly began to laugh. I shook my head out of embarrassment. Here I was, constantly trying to escape the attention that was being cast upon us. I could only imagine the rumors that were starting in that very moment. No one in the precinct knew about Trevor with the exception of Casey.

"Hansen, this is my brother, Trevor," I finally spoke, giving him that all too familiar look he had slowly become accustomed to.

"Yes, I assumed he was family to you," Hansen told me with a smile. Sure he did.

"Of course you did," I teased back. Trevor finally snapped out of his wandering and smiled, giving Hansen a handshake.

"She hasn't been too much of a pain in the ass, has she?" Trevor asked. He and Terry exchanged laughs before Hansen finally joined in. I waved my hand at the three of them and broke off to head inside. I didn't need to hear this. The next five minutes was going to be nothing but a rag fest and I had more important shit to worry about. Casey headed me off inside, making me engage in social interaction with Megan and his parents. I had nothing against the girl, they had been together since that night at the bar. She had just already had the pleasure of seeing me in numerous weaker moments of mine and it made the entire situation awkward. Casey knew all of this of course, and continued to encourage it, hoping that I would make one more friend. I watched as my uncle and brother came inside with Hansen, all of them still laughing.

"My brother's here," I muttered under my breath.

"Holy shit!" Casey uttered. "This deserves something special." He pulled his flash from his back pocket and slipped it into my hand. I smiled at him and unscrewed the cap, taking a long, hard pull from it. "Whoa," he laughed, yanking it out of my mouth. "Save some for me too, okay?" He stuffed the flask back into its place as Trevor approached.

"Casey, this is my brother, Trevor," I introduced them, "Trevor, this is Casey. We went to the Academy together." Trevor smiled and held his hand out.

"Thanks for putting up with this mess," Trevor teased, shoving me as they shook hands.

"He's the asshole lawyer I told you all about," I tacked on. The men smiled at each other. Casey knew better than to start in on rag fest with Trevor right in front of Megan. I knew all of the juicy details. All it would take was one off comment and I would unload. Rolling my eyes, I broke them up and lead them into the fenced in area behind the station. There, we found Shane, Rick, and the other recruits and their families. Rick was standing with who I had assumed to be his wife and son, while Shane stood with a lanky, short haired brunette. Shane gave me a nod as I walked in, finding a place to stand by the other recruits with Casey. I messed with the name badge on my uniform nervously.

"Will you chill the hell out?" Casey quipped as I tilted my actual badge back and forth, trying to figure out what looked best. I was nervous and I couldn't find a better way to deal with it.

"I can't," I quipped back, sliding my hands down on my thighs.

"We've clearly got this."

"Uh-huh." Casey gave a small, short finger wave to Megan. "You're _embarrassing me_ ," I hissed, jokingly. He laughed. While I was happy for them, I was also sad at the same time. It made me truly realize just how alone I was. That I didn't have someone to share that with.

"Would you rather have me do it to your brother? Who by the way, looks like a fucking male version of a Victoria's Secret model, I am seriously feeling _way_ too unsexy in his presence. I'm trying to keep Megan's eyes off him so she doesn't suddenly realize how grossly unattractive her boyfriend is." I laughed, honestly and loudly. This was the first time in a long time I felt genuinely happy with the day I had been given. I was going to make it a point to enjoy it as much as I could. I didn't get days like this often.

"You nut, quit being so skittish just because you aren't the hottest guy in the room for once."

"What are you doing after this?" Casey asked, breaking his attention from Megan.

"Supposed to be celebrating with the family. That is, if I get that position."

"And you will."

"After all that time I spent with Shane?" I laughed. "I should just go down to the bar and apply for a security position. I don't even know why I made the attempt to show up here today."

"Quit your bullshit pity party," he snapped, giving me a shove. "We'll talk and laugh about how you're acting later over a few beers – _or seven_."

"Seven beers. Yes." Rick clapped his hands and stepped before us, calling the attention of everyone stuffed into the small space.

"On behalf of everyone here at King's County Sheriff's Department, we would like to thank all of you for coming out and joining us on this special day. These men and women before you have worked very hard over the last two months to prove themselves worthy of this department. Some have already been on car chases, helped bring in criminals who have stolen, dealt drugs, or _harmed_ members of this county, one has even had the privilege of rescuing a cat from a tree…" he paused for the laughter and Casey shook me back and forth, pointing at me. I laughed, closing my eyes out of embarrassment. "My deputy, Shane Walsh, and I debated on this for the last week. It took much commitment and time from us, most of our deliberations were spent covering all the time we spent with these amazing individuals. For those that we do not pick today as Deputies, we are heartbroken that we didn't have enough positions for these gifted individuals. For the three that we do not choose today, we have hand-selected other jobs within our department that we feel they may excel at. " Rick stepped over in front of us, waving for Shane to come and join him. "Shane is going to announce our new recruits and their new titles."

Shane cleared his throat, throwing his toothpick out into the grass beside him. "Once again, I'd just like to thank you all for comin' out. Everyone behind us has worked extremely hard an' been dedicated to us for a great majority of their last two months. I'll save all the gushy stuff an' just get straight to it. First off, we have Deputy Tiffany Mann, who will be joinin' our seasoned Deputy Ryan Hansen as his partner." There was a loud amount of clapping and applauding, and a shriek from Tiffany. One of the guys next to her gave her a long hug, congratulating her. Hansen stood out in the crowd, pumping his fist. "Next, we have a first here in our county. We have never had two recruits come in an' show enough promise or leadership to have us think of this… it took Rick and I about two hours' worth of arguin' about it." Rick laughed, clapping his hand onto his partner's shoulder. "These two have shown an immense amount of teamwork an' respect for each other. So, without gabbin' away into the night, we induct Deputies Casey Brown and Jennifer Morgan, as our first partnership straight out of recruitment." I laughed and grabbed Casey's arm, squeezing him as we both looked at each other in shock.

"Did they seriously just say our names?" Casey asked slowly.

"I want to say so, but I'm still trying to process that mess," I laughed over the cheering and whistling coming from Trevor and Terry.

"I'm about 90% sure they called our names," Casey laughed, pulling me into a long hug. I felt the tears pool in the bottom of my eyes. This was it. This was what I needed. I had worked so hard to get to where I was. "We're totally getting shitfaced later," he whispered before letting me go.

"We congratulate each and every one of our new Deputies, and welcome them to our brotherhood. Rick will announce the remaining positions," Shane announced, heading back over to the other side of the yard. The rest of the time they spoke was a blur. I could barely hear anything over the excitement I was feeling. During our initiation and swearing in process, it was all I could do to maintain concentration to follow what they were saying. After that, there was a long bout of picture taking as the rookies had to stand and have their pictures taken for the wall in the locker room. Then, another process of giving us the keys to our own patrol cars and pictures of that. When it was over, I begged the guys to let me go back home and let me change out of my uniform so we could go to dinner and out to the bar. It took more begging than was absolutely necessary with Trevor trying to bargain in a drive home in the patrol car.

 

* * *

 

I stood in the yard, fidgetin' with the plastic wrap on the toothpick I had put in my pocket before we left my apartment. Lila stood beside me bored to death, spinnin' the bracelet on her wrist for the hundredth time. It was my own fault, I was the 'lame ass' who had dragged her outta her cool bed to come an' join me. I just didn't come to these things alone. Watchin' the people around me with their families made me feel like a piece of shit. Who was I to show up alone to a big family function at work next to Rick an' his family.

"Uncle Shane, is that candy you have?" Carl asked, peekin' into my hands. I laughed an' ruffled his hair.

"No, kid, it's my toothpick."

"How much longer until this thing starts?" Lila yawned, pullin' her phone from her purse. "Bachelorette is supposed to be on in about an hour an' I already missed last week's episode." Lila an' I had only been together for about a month, an' I was still tryin' to adjust to her schedule an' how she did things. It was the longest relationship I had been in for the year, so I was milkin' it for all I had.

"I have it on DVR if you want to come over and watch it," Lori told her with a smile. "I've got a pretty strong feeling that Rick and Shane will go out drinking when this is over anyway. You're more than welcome to come over." I smiled at Lori, givin' her head a nod. I put the toothpick in my mouth an' spun it around, chompin' on the thin piece of wood. She knew all too well what these women needed. I'm glad that made one of us.

"How's that sound, babe?" Lila gave Lori her own sly smile.

"Sure, I could do that." Lori nodded back to me and turned to face Rick as he walked over the grass. He spoke the pleasantries so well, makin' sure to try an' get a few laughs out of everyone before he called me over. I nodded an' smiled to my partner as I stood beside him, makin' sure I remembered to throw my toothpick away. A few years ago I had totally forgotten about it an' damn near choked halfway through the ceremony. Definitely not my proudest moment.

After I announced the first inductee, there was a loud amount of clappin' and applaudin', and a shriek from Tiffany. I laughed, givin' her a small clap myself. The girl had proven herself the last two months. One night on patrol she literally took flyin' off down the street to tackle some teenager who had been spray-paintin' a dick on a building. It was like something from Terminator, she just shot off, runnin' at a full sprint. After everyone had semi-quieted down, I continued. "Next, we have a first here in our county. We have never had two recruits come in an' show enough promise or leadership to have us think of this… it took Rick and I about two hours' worth of arguin' about it." Rick laughed, clappin' his hand onto my shoulder. We had spent more like two whole days talkin' about this shit. On whether or not we were gonna give in an' let Morgan an' Brown be partners.

Morgan an' I had our fair share of issues. The lyin', the yelling… I didn't remember a worse time with a recruit. I had originally wanted nothin' to do with her. I was gonna string her along through orientation and give her some bullshit desk job until recruitment opened up again. Try an' teach her a lesson. Then I watched her do actual police work an' heard her story. Feelin' like the world's biggest ass, I vouched for her when Rick wanted to put her in the ammunition locker. Rick had read my reports on her an' wasn't satisfied with the work she had been doin' which in reality was all the fault of my own. She was a lot stronger than I had given her credit for. She worked her ass off when she needed too. "These two have shown an immense amount of teamwork an' respect for each other. So, without gabbin' away into the night, we induct Deputies Casey Brown and Jennifer Morgan, as our first partnership straight out of recruitment."

A part of me wanted to turn around and congratulate her myself, but I steeled, an' continued on. I had been the one to make her life hell for the last two months an' I knew it. There was a lot of red I had to make up to get back into her good graces. An' it didn't help that Lila was with me, an' she watched my every interaction with a woman like a goddamn private investigator.

It seemed like a damn century before the entire process was over. I watched Morgan drive off in her patrol car with some older guy that was damn near my age, dressed in an immaculate suit, lookin' like a million dollars. Lila sighed an' threw herself against my side, kissing my neck. "Let's get out of her while we still can. There might be time for a quickie before I head off to meet Lori," she purred, bitin' down on my earlobe. I smiled, feelin' that tightness pull in my groin.

"Go get in that car," I whispered, smackin' her ass as she walked off. After I tended to Lila, I got dressed an' went up to the bar on Main Street, the hang out Rick an' I usually attended. Inside, it was busier than usual. There were people at almost every seat along the bar and in the booths. There was a loud obnoxious cheer from the pool tables, I quickly glanced over to find Jennifer doin' a shot with the man in the suit. My eyes narrowed and I continued to walk in, desperate to find Rick.

"Walsh!" yelled a familiar voice, I turned to find Rick at a booth near the pool tables, already situated over a pitcher of beer and two glasses. I slipped into the leather seat across from him, keepin' my eyes on the festivities behind him, watchin' the recruits down another round of shots.

"They been here long?" I asked over the loud country music playin' in the background.

"I think so, maybe an hour or two?" Rick replied, starin' at the watch on his wrist.

"Lila make it over okay?"

"I think she had just shown up before I left. I had to make a couple stops before comin' in. Hansen is on call tonight alone, so I've been tryin' to keep my radio on."

"I can go on call tonight too if ya need me," I answered, resistin' the urge to drink a beer or two. Rick worked hard enough as it was. He should'a been at home with Lori an' Carl, not out here waitin' around on Hansen.

"Nah, it's alright, I just think I'll wait on the beer." He pushed his glass away an' stared off across the room, focusin' on something I couldn't see.

"You alright?" I asked, my eyes glancin' behind him again as another cheerful yell came from the group.

"Yeah, just rememberin' our induction. All the wildness of that night. Was just tryin' to keep an eye on our rookies," Rick told me with a small smile. "We were pretty wild, somethin' tells me Brown an' Morgan can just as crazy."

"We were pretty crazy," I laughed, recallin' Rick's punch out session with a local in the parkin' lot. I felt myself lookin' to Morgan again as she hugged the suited man tightly. She kissed his cheek an' held him in a hug for a long amount of time. Rick's eyebrow raised an' he turned to look at what had gained my sudden full attention. He chuckled and poured another beer into the empty glass, pushin' it to me.

"Go take it to her." I laughed again, pushin' the amber liquid to the center of the table.

"I got Lila remember?"

"Lila, Lucy, Libby – like you give a shit. They're gonna be gone in a few days' time anyway. It's just a beer, Shane, not an invitation to move into your apartment." I shut my eyes an' stared at fake wood of the table.

"An' if she says no? She's got that fancy man over there in that suit who's been caterin' to her since I stepped into this bar. She doesn't need this."

"If you don't, I'm sure there's plenty who will…" Rick said with a gesture to the crowd of the bar, some men who had taken an interest in the deputy themselves. With a heavy sigh I rose out of the booth, grippin' both of the beers in my hands. There was another loud cheer as she, Brown, and Mann finished off their fourth round of shots.

"Hey," I greeted, smiling at the same group that had formed around the three of them. Brown and Morgan straightened up immediately, comin' to a full on attention at the sound of my voice. I tried to laugh. It was going to be a hard habit for them to break in the next few months. I remembered how long it finally took me to stop being so afraid of my own superiors. "Slow down, I come in peace," I joked, holdin' the beers out. "Was just comin' over to give Morgan a congratulatory drink." I watched her turn to the man in the suit and mutter somethin' under her breath.

"Ah, yes, Deputy Walsh, such a pleasure to meet you," he stumbled, extending his hand. "I'm Trevor Morgan, Jen's older brother. She's told me a lot about you." I smiled and glanced between the two of them. She held her hands out and took the beer graciously, downing a fourth of it in a large gulp. "Sorry, she's been drinking since about 5 o'clock."

"Pft, have not," she countered, setting the beer down. "What do you want, Walsh?" she asked, all formalities aside.

"Was just bringin' you a beer to say congrats, that's all," I replied with a small, sideways smile.

"Thanks," she smiled, tippin' more of the beer into her mouth. Trevor cleared his mouth loudly, gesturin' to the bar. "What?" she asked, lookin' between him an' the bar. "You need'ta sit?"

"No," he laughed with a grunt, gesturin' to the bar again.

"Trevor, seriously what is your deal?" she asked sitting the beer down.

"I think Walsh would like a word in private with you, Jen," Brown spoke up. She raised her eyebrow at me an' picked up the beer again.

"Sure, why not?" she stated, leavin' the group. I followed behind her slowly. Watchin' the gentle sway of her long, dark, curly hair as she walked. I cleared my throat when I remembered that was somethin' I shouldn't be doing, ubt I couldn't help myself. She was nice to look at it. Pretty hair, nice body. It was a complete package. Those didn't come around town often. She stopped in the middle of the bar, pushin' her way onto one of the red leather stools. "What's up?" she asked, finishin' off the beer I had given her.

"I just wanted to apologize an' say congratulations. You're gonna be great," I answered, pushin' myself onto the stool beside her. Her shoulder was jammed against my arm, lockin' me into place so I couldn't turn to look at her. She coughed, callin' the bartender over for another drink.

"Don't patronize me, Walsh," she grunted before askin' for a Crown and Coke.

"I wasn't –"

"Just because I told you about my past doesn't mean you know me," she cut me off, her eyes givin' me a once over before facing forward again.

"I'm apologizin' for treatin' you the way I did," I explained, calling another beer up for myself.

"And now you're acting like we're friends or something." I could hear the disgust in her voice. I was tryin' to do that, but I could see where she was comin' from. "I don't need your pity. I don't need your sad feelings or your beer. I thank you for the beer, but I'm not another typical girl that you can pull in and have your way with for a few weeks and toss aside. My past might be sad, but that's your entire future," she quipped. I looked down at her an' could feel the argument brewin', settlin' right in the middle of my gut. So this was what she thought I was doing. I bit down on my lip. "So if you think a beer or two is enough to convince me to come back to your apartment with you, you are greatly mistaken," she spoke with a laugh. I watched her stir her mixed drink with her finger. She placed her finger in her mouth an' took it out with a long, slow drag.

"I'm sorry you think that's what this is about…" It was definitely somethin' I had thought about. I wanted to take her to my place an' show her exactly what thoughts popped into my head when I looked at her sometimes, but this was not the time or the place. She had been drinkin' an' had every reason to hate my fuckin' guts.

"That's definitely what it's about. Every woman in this town has warned me about you, Walsh." I balled my fists up and flexed, tryin' to keep myself from yellin'. I couldn't even be nice to a person of the opposite sex without bein' accused of wantin' sex. That was jus' my life.

"I just wanted to apologize an' tell you that you'll make a great addition to our squad. That I underestimated you," I told her.

"And that you're sorry I turned you down."

"I didn't ask you for that," I bit, pushin' my beer away. "An' if you think that's all I want, it's just as bad as me thinkin' you were some sort of manipulatin' liar." She scoffed and stood up from the bar, walkin' back to her group without another word to me. My jaw clenched to keep me from sayin' more than what I should. "You're welcome!" I called after her, straightenin' out my shirt before walkin' out of the bar. I heard the door open and close behind me. I turned quickly out of instinct, spinnin' on my heel to be greeted with her older brother.

"I'm sorry, man," he spoke, takin' a few steps towards me. "She's never been the same since all that, and it takes her awhile to shut that anger down."

"Don't worry about it." I sniffed and rubbed the back of my head, lookin' out at the street beside us.

"Give her some time, I promise she'll come around. It takes her awhile, but she does. Just don't take what she says to heart right now." I nodded, my eyes stayin' on a passin' car. "Have a good night."


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: I read through this once, to be 100% honest. I apologize in advance for mistakes! More updates to come this weekend!**

**10/28/16 - story line additions and edits**

* * *

 

 

**CHAPTER**

**FOUR**

 

 

* * *

 

Jennifer pushed her way into the station, making it a point to not say hello to Shane. She made her way to the ammunition locker and pulled out a few rounds of ammunition. Shane caught up to her and leaned against the doorway to the locker, staring at his toothpick like he had never seen one in his life before. He carefully looked over the weak piece of wood, testing the tip of it with his thumb. She stayed focused on the equipment before her, doing her best to shut him out. She heard a soft flicking noise and could only assume it was coming from him. Jennifer sighed and turned her attention towards Shane. Talking to him was the last thing she wanted to do that morning. She found herself unable to become angry anytime they had to speak. "Something I can help you with?" she asked with a raise of her eyebrow, purposefully avoiding his gaze.

"Do ya think maybe, we could start over?" he asked slowly, not lifting his eyes from the toothpick. "Ya don't have to, but I think it'd make things flow easier around here." Work was hard enough as an officer, but to have one of your fellow officers not even be able to stomach talking to you made it worse.

"What's the relationship between me and you got to do with the flow around here?" she asked, stuffing the new rounds into a large black duffel bag. She turned to him, pushing some of her stray hairs from her face. They hadn't spoken in weeks since the incident at the bar, neither one of them wanting to make the other uncomfortable. Later, when Jennifer had heard what she had said in her drunken stupor, she felt guilty for the entire incident, but her pride had gotten the best of her and apologizing when she was in the wrong, was not a strong point for her. There were plenty of times she truly wanted to tell him she was sorry for what she had said, but her past made it impossible. Telling him sorry felt like giving in. It felt like defeat. Shane shook his head, his eyebrows threading together, eyes narrowed. His mouth fell into that classic lopsided smirk.

"Don't worry about it, okay? Have a good day an' stay safe," he told her, his gaze quickly shifting back down. Shane gave her a nod of his head as he turned on his heel. He tucked his toothpick into his mouth, giving him something to vent his feelings out on. He had tried everything Rick had told him to do. He tried apologizing on a few different occasions, but she would shrug him off. She thought back on that night, the way he had approached her, showing her a different man from those couple of months of orientation. The man that had approached her in the bar was not out to destroy her. Something about that had offended her. Offended her to the point of attacking him where she knew it would hurt him the most. He spent so much time trying to sabotage her and then wanted to be friends, it was a massive trigger. She readjusted the strap on her duffel bag and made a step towards him, but quickly changed her mind and walked away. How could she apologize to him now? She couldn't give in now. It had been at least two months, it was nearing Halloween… the humidity had finally began to release its hold on the lower part of the United States. Grabbing an extra cup of coffee from the break room, she headed out towards the garage to meet Casey at the patrol car. She dropped the bag into the trunk before joining him in the front, dropping her body in the passenger seat in the same fashion. Casey gave her a knowing look as she sipped on her coffee.

"What happened this time?" he asked casually.

"Same old," she answered, using the coffee to warm her hands.

"As in you two just say some random sentences to each other and continue on about your days?" he asked with a laugh. Casey was growing all too familiar with how their mornings would go. They would fumble around the office, trying their damnedest not to speak to each other, make eye contact and someone would say something to piss or scare the other one off.

"Exactly." He shook his head and pulled the car out of the bay.

"You know, you two are going to have to get it together at some point. There's too much at stake for us to be divided."

"Thanks Rick," she grumbled, swallowing another gulp of coffee. Casey was slowing turning into Rick during their two months together. He was constantly trying to lift her spirits more than usual.

"How do you know he doesn't _honestly_ feel bad for what he did? _Christ_ , give the man a chance, Jen, what do you have to lose?"

"My pride," she answered honestly. It would make her look weaker than she already felt, that was not something she could afford, she was still a rookie. Rick had tried to get her to ease up off of his partner, but it did nothing to prevent her from avoiding Shane. After a week of trying Rick gave up and tried to tell Shane to focus himself elsewhere, but Shane couldn't fight the guilt he felt when he saw her. Casey scoffed, pulling them to a stop at the entrance of the station.

"Look, you know I have your back in this, but I think you're overreacting to a man who was genuinely sorry. You know I love you and I wouldn't lie to you."

"So what do you propose I do now? Walk up and shake his hand? Apologize for being such a bitch? Sure let's see how that would go on my end 'sorry for being such a pain in the ass, Walsh, _please_ accept this handshake as a truce, may we be best friends now?'"

"You _really_ _are_ a pain in the ass, you know that?" Casey griped. "It doesn't have to sound exactly like that."

"Damn near close," she bit back. He pulled them onto Main Street, driving them to the nearest highway to catch speeders.

"Jen, I love you, but please, cut the man some slack. He looks like a wounded puppy."

" _I don't even know this man!_ " her voice rising. She was tired of constantly feeling like everyone was on Shane's side. Everyone was sticking up for him. It felt like there was no consideration into how she was really feeling.

"No one said you needed to! And no one said you _needed_ to be _best_ friends either! But we took an oath. We're a part of a brotherhood, Jen. You need to put your selfish bullshit aside and apologize to him." Jennifer stared out of the window, watching as the buildings slowly decreased in number and fell into flat plains of farms. She watched the large machines work out in the distance, dreaming about how different her life would be if she had been raised on a farm. Her father would be involved in her life, he would teach her how to grow the crops, how to care for them. He would teach her how to harvest them. He would send her off to the high school dance where she'd find a strong, farm boy. They would date, marry, and have children. That would be her life. But that was not her life. And as nice as it was to dream, it felt like a dead end. No excitement, just life in the stereotypical romance novel form. She sighed, finishing off her coffee with one long gulp.

"If I apologize will you _stop_ babbling?" she teased, pulling her aviators on.

"I'll throw a goddamn party!" She smiled at him and rolled her window down, letting the air drag through her fingers. They sat in silence as he drove them to their location, parking them under an overpass. He rolled down his window and stepped out, grabbing the radar gun from the trunk.

"How're things with you and Megan?" she shouted over the rush of the vehicles passing by them. Casey stood in the doorway of the driver's seat, aiming the gun at the traffic coming up from behind them.

"Pretty good. I wish you'd actually come over for dinner every once in a while and get to know her," he yelled back.

"What kind of best friend would I be if I constantly imposed on your love life?" she teased, flipping the car's radio to an upbeat, modern station.

"Number one, you _wouldn't_ be imposing. Number two, I think it's time you made more friends than just me and your uncle." She sighed, rubbing her thumb down the fake, plastic, wooden grain of the dashboard, doing anything to avoid their current conversation. "I'm supposed to go meet her parents next summer," Casey spoke. "I'm nervous as hell, Jen. They live in North Carolina. We're gonna go spend two weeks with them."

"Aw, that's sweet!" she chirped, giving him a genuine smile, even though he couldn't see it. She had never met _his_ parents. He always spoke so ill of his mother, and always made comments what a ruthless piece of shit his father was. She didn't even know if they were alive when they were dating. "You think this is the girl, Casey?" He laughed, feeling a tight pull in his chest. Marriage wasn't something he had thought about very often, but there was something about Megan that definitely made him think about the word.

"I don't know, you know? I've never felt this way about a woman before…" he trailed off, watching and listening to the radar gun chirp. "We've got one!" he shouted. "He's going about 76." Casey tossed the radar gun at Jennifer and plopped down in the driver's seat. He simultaneously pulled his seat belt on while he started the engine. Jennifer flicked the lights and the sirens on so that Casey could direct them towards the speeder. They came quickly behind a newer model Toyota Camry, the driver reluctantly pulled over into the shoulder along the highway. Without even speaking to each other the deputies shut off the sirens and stepped out of the car, their gear jingling as they walked up the Camry. Jennifer walked up on the passenger side while Casey took the driver's. Casey knocked on the window, the driver slowly rolled it down.

"Something wrong officer?" the male driver asked.

"Do you know why I pulled you over?" Casey questioned, peering inside the car the best he could.

"I have no idea," he answered, shrugging his shoulders. Jennifer looked into the backseat, looking for any evidence for why they may need to search the car.

"You know what the speed limit is?"

"Uhhh, no." Casey smiled, glancing back down the highway.

"I didn't think so. Sir, you were going about 16 miles per hour over our speed limit here in King's County."

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know!" He sounded genuine to Casey. He tried to be nice to the one's who seriously acted like they had no idea what they were doing.

"I need to see some license, registration, and proof of insurance." The man nodded, swallowing hard before handing Casey over the right documentation. "I'll be right back," Casey added, nodding to Jennifer so they could walk back to the car. Feet away from the patrol car, the man in the Camry sped off, leaving the deputies on the side of the road.

"Not today," Jennifer groaned, running the rest of the distance to the car with Casey.

"Call it in!" Casey yelled, throwing the car into drive, reactivating the sirens. They sped off, the rear tires slipping and skidding to catch a good traction.

"This is 407, we have a 10-80 heading north on highway 59. 10-78. I repeat 407 needs 10-78 with a 10-80 on highway 59, heading north at mile marker 64, 10-4," Jennifer spoke calmly, holding the handle on the roof of the car as Casey sped in between cars to keep up with the Camry.

"407, this is 276, we are in route to your location, 10-4," Shane replied through the radio. She rolled her eyes and looked at Casey, who was fighting the urge to smile. This was how the day was going to go apparently.

"Did you do this on purpose?" she groaned. Her fingers hurriedly typed the license plate number into the laptop positioned on her side of the car.

"Yes, Jen, I paid a man to speed down the highway so you would have to speak to Shane Walsh. It's all a part of my master plan."

"You're an ass so I figured you would do it on purpose." Casey laughed.

"Quit making me laugh, this is serious! We are in the middle of a high speed chase, Jen!" They whipped around another set of cars and heard a second set of sirens approaching from behind.

"407 and 406, please fall back, this is 270," Rick advised them on the radio. "You're following too closely, 10-4." Casey pressed his foot on the brake and slowed the car down to match Rick's. "We'll watch from here and try to get him off of the highway, 10-4."

"10-4," Jennifer spoke, watching the Camry ahead of them.

"You get anything interesting in his profile?" Casey asked, watching Jen scroll through a few pages of information.

"Nope."

"You should tell Rick."

"270, this is 407. There is no information in the file for his license number, 10-4."

"10-4," Rick replied. "We will continue to follow… we need a 10-58 north of mile marker 82," Rick spoke, speaking to the dispatcher back at the station.

"10-4," the bored woman replied.

"Figured out what you're gonna say yet?" Casey asked with a tease. Jennifer shot him a look. The car weaved behind the Camry, Casey trying to keep them at a safe distance as Rick had commanded. They drove in silence, only the occasional cuss word coming from him as they came upon the traffic diversion, making it significantly harder to follow behind the speeder. The car veered off of the highway and onto a main road, where a roadblock with tire spikes was waiting for him. The Camry attempted to veer, but didn't turn in enough time, running the driver's side tires right over the spikes. There was a loud pop that Jennifer could hear even over the sirens as the air escaped them quickly. Rick pulled up right behind the car, he and Shane getting out of the car with their guns drawn. Casey and Jennifer followed suit, using their doors as shields against any potential gunshots.

"Come on out!" Rick shouted as the driver's side door of the Camry opened. "Get your hands up!" he yelled. "UP!" The driver slowly raised his hands in the air, stumbling towards Rick and Shane's patrol car. Rick took no chances and ran up on the driver, tackling him to the ground. He grunted through the Miranda Rights as he placed the man in handcuffs. Shane was quickly at Rick's side, pulling the perpetrator to his feet by his handcuffs. The two men walked the man to the backseat of their squad car and shoved him in. Shane sighed loudly, slamming the backseat door closed. The rookies approached Shane and Rick slowly after disengaging their guns.

"Thanks," Casey told them with a broad smile. Jennifer stared at the man in the backseat of the patrol car, not feeling her partner's eyes on her. He shoved her in the side when she didn't say anything.

"Yeah, thanks," Jennifer tacked on, looking between the two men before them.

"You wanna look through the car?" Casey asked Rick, looking towards the Camry. He smiled at Jennifer over his shoulder, giving her a quick wink when she pieced together what exactly he was doing.

"Yeah," Rick answered, leading the way for him. Shane and Jennifer stared at each other for a moment before breaking eye contact. This was the closest that had been together without skittering off.

"You alright?" Shane asked cautiously, fiddling with his radio on his side, finding a reason not to look at her.

"I'm good," she replied curtly. "How're you?" He made eye contact with her again, not sure how to answer.

"I'm alright." Jennifer watched Casey carefully, not wanting to make eye contact with Shane again either. She thought back to their talk in the car and Shane at the bar the night of her induction. A large sigh escaped her lips and she pinched the bridge of her nose, turning her body to make her face Shane. Perhaps Casey was right. Maybe she had been too hard on Shane. He shifted uncomfortably while standing beside her, briefly wondering if he should be helping search the car. She exhaled deeply.

"Shane – " Jennifer started, clearing her throat. "I'm sorry," the words stumbled out quickly. "I'm sorry about what I said that night and how I acted. It was rude of me and you were just trying to apologize."

"Don't worry about it," he told her with a sideways smile that didn't reach his eyes. "You had every right to be mad at me."

"No, I _didn't_ , you were apologizing and I took it out on you. I have spent every day for the last two years proving I deserve this. I felt like you just spent two months trying to make it seem like I didn't. It really pissed me off."

"I'm sorry if you felt that way." They stared at each other, both unsure of what to say next. Out of embarrassment Jennifer looked at the grass beneath them. She exhaled again.

"Care to start over?" she asked, holding her hand out. She raised her eyes to meet his and he smiled, taking her hand in his. He shook it slowly, breaking eye contact with her shortly after.

"Wanna meet later for a beer down at the bar?"

"Sure."

"I'll see ya then," he told her, giving her a smile that finally reached his eyes. She couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face while watching his.

"Walsh!" Rick called out, "bring me some evidence bags!" Shane nodded to her.

"Right on it!" he called back, turning to reach into the car. She turned her attention to her partner, who looked extremely fascinated with some type of device he had found in the backseat.

"So they use this for meth?" Casey asked, holding up a couple of gallons of chemicals.

 

* * *

 

 

I stood at the bar, taking in every drink I could think of that would give me the courage to talk to Shane. I didn't know what made me so nervous about it, it was nothing more than a meeting, but something had set me off about meeting him. Mostly because I had no idea what in the hell we were going to talk about. Work? Our pasts? Shit, I had no idea. I usually used Casey in most of these situations. I was terrible at making friends. I just never knew what to say. I found it all so boring. Small talk was about as exciting as watching plants grow. I sat, perched on the edge of a stool at the bar, sitting across from Megan who had no trouble pouring me whatever I asked for. She was looking at me more seriously than usual which was saying something, because the girl barely cracked a smile at work. "What?" I barked out over the music. Casey was beginning to wear off on her.

"Are you alright?" she asked, leaning over the bar on her elbows.

"I don't know,"I replied back, honestly. When I was I ever alright? That was the better question. I took another shot of the whiskey she had sat down before me.

"This is a lot more than your usual."

"Is it?" I asked, staring at the empty shot glass before setting it back down. If there was one thing I hated to talk about more than my feelings it was my obvious drinking problem, that I wore on my goddamn shirt like a Girl's Scout badge. I drank a lot. It was my vice. It was my getaway. I didn't have to think when I drank. I wasn't myself when I had alcohol. And that was what I liked the most.

"Yes," she answered with a raise of her eyebrows. "Usually you just want a couple mixed drinks and you're on your way home. Tonight, you've put a pretty healthy dent in my bottle of Jack. That's not you."

"I figured Casey would have told you," I admitted. She smiled, and in that moment, I truly realized how beautiful she was, despite the annoying ambiance of the neon lights and dark atmosphere. Her almond shaped eyes, long blonde hair, full lips, and small petite nose. I could see why Casey was in love with her. Hell, I could have been in love with her. But Casey had gotten to her first, and she was very much into him. Casey always found the good ones before I could. I smiled to myself at that. I was happy he had finally found someone he deserved.

"He doesn't tell me everythin', sweetheart. He's got his secrets about you. You're his best friend."

"Am I really?" She nodded and smiled again.

"Don't sell yourself short." With a wink, she had dropped two more glasses of whiskey before me. "It's on the house. Take all the time ya need to find yourself."

"You're too good to me, Megan," I called out to her as she walked towards the other end of the bar. I stared at the golden liquid before me, listening to the sounds of the bar. I tried to record the obnoxious laughter and giggling, the horrifyingly great folk song playing over the speakers, and the cheering from the pool table. I wanted to be like those people, just hanging out with friends, not caring about the past or future, just living in the now. That would never be me. I was too stuck in the past. Too stuck on how fucked my life had been and how I had never tried to make it better. I wasn't friendly enough to have friends either. It was the whole small talk shit I mentioned earlier. Trying to get to know someone was grating to me. I would never be that person with mounds of friends and I knew that. Casey had been the one to initiate all conversations in the Academy. I don't know if I would even be where we were without his persistence. He had driven me absolutely bat shit crazy at first, constantly asking me questions from "do you have this trainer?", "what's your schedule like?", "where's your bunk?". Sometimes, I had wanted to do nothing more than slam him into a corner and tell him to leave me the hell alone. Now here I was, stuck in a partnership with his persistently annoying ass. I smiled before downing one of the shots. There was something undeniably comfortable in his friendship, because nothing says forever like being maced in the face together.

Casey was one of the only stable people in my life aside from my uncle. I wished I could have said my brother, but he was in Dallas, and we still had our problems. Everything might have seemed okay between us on the outside, but deep down, it wasn't. I loved Trevor. Trevor would always be a person I could count on, but in reality he just didn't know me. At least not as well as what he thought he did. I dragged my finger around the rim of the glass, taking the time to focus on the people around the bar, trying to imagine myself in their positions. I looked from the pretentious bitch standing by the door to the town drunk, slumped over his glass in a booth. I tried to feel what it would be like to be each one of them, trying not to leave anyone out.

"Damn you've been busy," whistled a voice over my shoulder. I jumped back into the present, away from Casey, the Academy, and my vicarious card players. I looked down, slowly realizing at some point I had another three shots. I shamelessly scooted the glasses away, turning to look at the voice. The drunken part of me was dumbstruck, I felt as though I had never seen him before. Shane stood before me in a pair of dark jeans and a black v-neck. Part of me was relishing in how attractive he was, while the other half was annoyingly reminding me about the things we had been through. I hated the later.

"Those are someone else's," I mumbled. He laughed, scooting his way into the stool beside mine.

"S'that right?" he asked. I could see the smile on his face without even looking at him. I wanted to turn and look, but feared I would say or do something stupid.

"Yep," I quipped back, pushing the glasses even farther away, pushing them to the damn near edge of the bar. "They really should learn how to clean up around here." He smiled again before calling Megan over.

"You want anything?"

"Maybe just a beer." He turned back to face me and I nervously refolded the small napkin used for my drinks in my hands. Megan placed two beers before us and gave me a look. I knew Casey was rubbing off on her.

"Are you alright?" she mouthed, giving Shane the once over. I nodded, giving her a wave of my fingers.

"What kinda drunk are you?" asked Shane, sliding the beer over.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, everyone turns into a certain drunk, whether they know it or not. You've got remorseful, angry, an' then playful." His voice turned at the last word and I pretended I didn't notice. Hell knew that with the combination of alcohol, the way he looked, and a small amount of flirting that I would be like putty in his hands in a small matter of time. No amount of anger would stop me from allowing myself to take part in that. Alcohol and self-control do not go so well together.

"Depends on my mood."

"That right?"

"Yeah," I answered, taking a long drink.

"Depends on what?" I shrugged, pulling the label off the Budweiser before me. I didn't want to talk about it. "Don't give me that, Morgan." I opened my mouth, then shut it.

"Depends on what's going on," I told him, turning to give him a pointed look. He nodded, taking a drink of his own.

"I know what ya mean."

" _That right_?" I taunted back, giving him a shove of my shoulder. He laughed and looked down at me. In that moment I could feel my self-control start to fade.

"Yeah, an' how're you right now?"

"Kinda that in between," I replied with a shake of my hand. "I honestly don't know. You missed that drunk level. There's that pitiful stuck in the middle version that just likes to think. That's my most dangerous version."

"Why's that?"

"Don't play stupid," I quipped, knocking back the rest of the beer.

 

* * *

 

I knew exactly what she meant by that level of drunk. An' I knew why that was her dangerous version. I couldn't bring myself to look at her for a minute. My mind was filled with her cryin' in the squad car. The heat an' hatred that filled me damn near made me throw my beer against the back wall of the bar. I didn't see how any man could treat someone they way they treated her. The thought of it drove me into such a rage I could barely keep myself straight. There was so much she had to offer. Not just by looks. Hell, she was beautiful, but there was something deeper down that I wanted to get from her. "I'm not meanin' to," I replied, keepin' my voice low. She focused herself on her beer bottle, her eyes not reaching up to meet mine. "What're you thinkin' about now?" I watched her shoulders heave up an' down. I wanted to get to the bottom of this woman before me. I wanted to know her. And I was willing to do anything not to fuck it up.

"A lot of different things." I could tell by the tone of her voice that she wasn't lying.

"Care to share?" She laughed an' I watched the way her smile never reached her eyes. Jennifer's eyes closed an' she smiled again. I was tip-toeing the fuckin' line.

"Not really," she laughed again, opening her eyes to meet mine. "It'd just make me too sad. And we're supposed to be makin' amends remember?" I laughed this time, nodding in agreement.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: 10/28/16 - edits and additions for the story line**

* * *

 

 

 

**CHAP** **TE** **R**

**FIVE**

 

 

* * *

 

They sat and talked at the bar for a while before heading to a booth away from the pool tables, not wanting to have to fight against the yelling to hear each other. Between the music and general chatter of the bar it was hard enough to hear on top of the clanking of pool balls. It gave the pair something to look at when they couldn't stand to look the other person in the eyes. Jennifer bowed her head and looked down at the table, the rush and realization of how drunk she really was coming to a head. Her mouth didn't care what her brain was telling her, the filter she used had vanished. She wasn't going to show it that easily. She had learned how to tame her drunkenness at some point in college. Shane kept his composure, ordering another round of beers for them. He had nowhere near the amount of alcohol she had, it was the woman before him that was making him feel stir crazy. She frowned and picked at a piece of torn leather on the booth seat.

"Are you alright?" Shane asked.

"I'm good," she answered. She dabbed her hands at her reddened cheeks, praying it didn't look as terrible as it felt. "It's just hot in here," she laughed, pressing the cool beer bottle to the back of her neck. The alcohol was making her sweat.

"You wanna go outside for a 'sec?"

"Sure." Jennifer and Shane left their beers at the table and headed out the front door to the street. The air was relatively cooler, but it did nothing for the heat she still felt throughout her body. A small breeze blew past them, sending Shane the scent of her hair conditioner and lotion, mixed with the yeasty smell of their beer. He watched as a couple walked down the street away from them, laughing loudly, their voices echoing off of the buildings flanking both sides of the sidewalk. There was a slight twinge of pain in his chest, he didn't leave the bar with most women that way. He didn't come and stand outside the bar with women either, at least not without kissing them. His brown eyes drifted back to Jennifer, who was watching the couple too. She couldn't honestly recount a time that she had left the bar with any man like that. She didn't get to go out to bars very often. It wasn't until she and Casey became friends that she had begun to visit bars. Drinking in her dorm or in her apartment alone had suited her fine. The main reason she appreciated the bar scene was to people watch. It gave her chance to live through someone else for a short time. Couples were one of the few she couldn't do. She had no idea what a normal relationship was like.

"So Walsh, why did you become a cop?" she asked, turning to look at him. She had never heard his reasoning. She leaned her back against the cool brick of the building. "I never got a chance to ask you." He smiled and ducked his head down, biting down on his lower lip for a brief second.

"Rick, mostly. It was all Rick's idea. Rick wanted to do this since we were in high school, ya know? Just had these big dreams of goin' to college an' comin' home, bein' the sheriff. An' we've been best friends since damn near the beginnin' of time. It just felt like the right thing to do."

"So, you essentially just followed Rick's dream and made it your own?"

"Yeah," Shane answered with a sniff. "Don't get me wrong, I love what I do, but if you would'a told me this is where I'd be when I was in high school, I might'a laughed it off." He smiled again and rubbed the back of his neck. Both of his parents had died soon after he went off to college, neither one of them knew how to take care of themselves very well and Shane had been the only one who had kept tabs on their health and kept them in check. Anytime anyone needed to find Shane they would rarely find him at his own house. If they really wanted to get into touch with him, they could find him at the Grimes family home. Rick was the only person he counted on as family, considering his extended family had the same issues, health was at the bottom of the totem pole for them. What really put Shane in his place was at his parent's funeral, when only a few family members showed up to pay their respects. Not even his cousins that he had grown up with had bothered to come. It started the inevitable downfall for his relationships, chasing woman after woman, worse than what he had done before in high school. He was looking for any type of affection he could find, even if it meant it would only last a week or so. The minute any type of arguing started up, he was gone, off to find another. He didn't know how to talk about his feelings, especially any kind revolving romance or love. It was better to shut it off then pretend it existed, and it was something he had become very good at over the years.

"Yeah I probably would have done the same," Jennifer laughed, recalling her childhood dream of becoming an astronaut. "I wanted to be an astronaut." Shane laughed.

"Well damn, that certainly makes my dream of wantin' to be a tank operator look pretty bleak."

"A tank operator?"

"Ya know, in the military? The big tanks? I jus' have always wanted to drive one, that's all." She smiled and laughed at the thought, trying to imagine Shane as a ten year old, looking star struck at any big machinery he saw. It was cute to think about.

"Nice," she laughed. "I can see you driving through here now in a huge tank, just ready to blow up anyone in your way."

"Don't tease me," he laughed back, setting himself on the brick wall beside her, mimicking her stance. He gave her a light shove. She continued to laugh at the thought and shoved him back.

"I'm too drunk for a shoving contest, right now I'd just let you win."

"Let me win, huh? An' why's that?"

"I'm too tired," she admitted through a yawn. It had been a long day and the alcohol was finally wearing on her to the point of tiredness.

"How're ya gonna get home?" he asked, looking around the street for any signs of Casey or her uncle.

"Casey's supposed to pick me up when Megan gets off. He's gonna take us both home, which I'm sure will get everyone in this bar talking," Jennifer teased. The rumors had became a running joke between the three of them. Megan used any chance she could to make it worse by winking or flirting with Jennifer in front of people when she was at the bar.

"Of course it would, two beautiful women goin' home with him in the middle of the damn mornin', that's enough to make anyone talk."

"Shane Walsh," Jennifer gasped. "Did you just call me beautiful?" Her ears had picked up not much else of what he had said. It had been a long time since anyone had went out of their way to call her beautiful. Shane's mouth went into his classic sideways smirk, he nodded his head and pulled a toothpick from his pocket, finding something else to concentrate on. She wasn't expecting him to say that.

"Yeah, yeah, eat it up," he laughed, trying to hide his embarrassment. He finally let what he really wanted to say slip.

"I think I will," she quipped back, settling herself against the brick wall again. "It's been a long time since anyone's called me that."

"Now I know you're lyin'."

"And why would I lie about something like that for?"

"I just don't think it's possible." She raised her eyebrow and folded her arms over her chest.

"Why?" He opened his mouth a couple of times and bit on down on his lower lip, trying to find something to say that he knew wouldn't scare her off. She had made her feelings about any type of relationship with him pretty well known. She wasn't into him. She wasn't into that. And he knew he shouldn't be. He had Lila at home. Although a woman at home had never stopped him before, he was really trying to change himself, whether anyone had noticed or not.

"I jus' don't believe it."

"Well, please believe it, because it's the truth. Men in this town aren't exactly falling over each other to be with me if you haven't noticed." Shane stopped himself before he interjected. He had noticed. He noticed the way the men glanced at her in the bar and the way some of the men at the department looked her over when she walked by. He had noticed plenty. It made him want her in a way he couldn't explain. It was like he needed to be with her at least once for that reason. She wasn't like the locals. He knew that was partially the reason for all of the interest in her, but it didn't help that was in fact, beautiful. Before he could say anything else, she yawned, loudly. "I'm so tired. I don't know if I can wait for Casey. I might have to call my uncle."

"I can drive you home," Shane offered.

"No thanks, as fun as both of us getting arrested sounds, I would prefer to stick with the safe way."

"I'm not drunk," he explained. "Wanna give me a field sobriety test? I will go blow in my breathalyzer right now." She smiled at him as he stood up before her, out on the sidewalk, lined up with one of the lines in the concrete. "You jus' say the word an' we'll do this."

"And what exactly is _this_ that we're doing?" she teased.

"A field sobriety test."

"Mhm," she mumbled. "And what happens when I get to my house Officer Walsh, are you going to take me upstairs and tuck me in too?" He felt his cheeks reddened at thought. Realizing what she had said, she covered her mouth quickly, doing nothing to shield her laughter. He took a moment to smile with her, dipping his head down. The thought crossed through his mind. In a short time he could visually see all of things he would do while 'tucking her into bed.'

"I'm sorry ma'am, but I think that's a bit out of my job description."

"Serve and protect? I think making sure your fellow deputy gets into her home safely is a part of the deal." At this point she couldn't stop herself from flirting. She couldn't remember the last time she had openly flirted with anyone and it felt good. Jennifer didn't want to admit it out loud, but with the way he looked outside of his uniform, she couldn't help herself. She wanted to flirt with Shane. It felt even better to watch him stir, the attention and antics on him this time. She toyed with the idea in her mind, taking him upstairs to her room and handcuffing him to her iron bed frame. She could only imagine how much redder his cheeks would get.

"Well, you definitely got me on that." Her phone chirped loudly in her pocket. She retrieved her cell phone, _Casey: text message_. She smiled and opened the message. _I hear you've been outside for quite a while with Mr. Walsh. Are you staying safe?_ She smiled and texted back quickly: Yes, we're just talking. Casey replied quickly: _Mhm, I know you. And I know him. Do I need to come up there?_ She laughed this time, giving Shane an uneasy feeling in his stomach. He spun the toothpick that he had pulled from its wrapper in his hand and tucked it into his mouth. "What'cha smilin' about?" he asked.

"Casey's just texting me."

"He comin' to get you?"

"He might if I stay out here with you any longer." Shane ducked his head down and glanced both ways down the street. He couldn't get over her, he couldn't get over the way she had just spoken to him and was now smiling like she had just won the jackpot. It made him crazy. The way she was being so open and flirting with him when less than a day ago she would barely say two words to him. It was exciting him in ways he couldn't understand, the feelings conflicting of trying to stay honest to Lila, who was still waiting on him at home. But this was something he wanted. It was hard for him to explain or think about, but flirting with Jennifer on the sidewalk near the bar felt right to him. He tried to remind himself that a lot of things felt right in the moment. That was his major problem.

"And what does he think I'll do?" Shane asked, closing the space between them. She blushed and quickly tucked her phone away, imagining Shane once again, handcuffed to her bed. Jennifer's shoulders shrugged. Her innocence caught him off guard. He closed himself off to the warnings that were floating around in his mind, telling him to cautious.

"I think the question is really what would you do?" she challenged. He bit on his lower lip and took the toothpick of his mouth, he stopped just before her, and put his hand on the brick wall just above her head. She looked up, noticing for if what may have been the first time, that she had look up a good three to four inches to see his eyes. The alcohol swirled with a mixture of heat and the scent of him made something in her stomach knot up in a pleasant way. How was he supposed to stay away from her now? How was this not right?

"Are you testin' me, Morgan?"

"What do you mean?" she questioned, trying to keep her face innocent.

"I think you know exactly what I mean," he told her, he voice coming in a slight growl. She felt her stomach tense up. "You've been flirtin' pretty hard with me. What do you want?" His voice was barely above a whisper, he pulled the toothpick from his mouth and threw it to the ground. Her phone chirped again and she put her hand into her jean pocket to pull it out and he placed his hand on hers, stopping her from pulling it out. He leaned in, ducking his head down to meet Jennifer's. She instinctively closed her eyes and rose up to meet him. The door to the bar bashed open and a small crowd bounded out. Shane backed away from her quickly, pacing in a circle. Jennifer took a moment to recover and checked her phone. Casey had texted her again: _I'm on my way_. She stuffed her phone back into her pocket and watched Shane continue to pace. The crowd of people walked in the opposite direction, away from them. Noticing this, she stepped forward and stopped him in his pacing, standing flush against him. His body was warm and just as solid as it had appeared. In one swift motion she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down, pressing her lips to his. He groaned, his hands found her hips and he backed her against the brick wall, not letting his body part from hers. Her phone chirped rapidly twice in a row, but they didn't break from each other. She opened her mouth to let him in as a siren went off from the street. Jennifer bit down on her lip and looked out to find Casey in their squad car, hanging out of the window.

"Break it up, kids," Casey yelled out. The couple stood together, her arms still wrapped around his neck. "Don't make me use the spotlight." Shane sighed and released her.

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning was brutal, my mouth was coated with that dry, sticky film and that was my first clue that I had had too much to drink. I dared to open my eyes for a brief second, caught off guard by the swirling sensation of the entire room as I did so. Grumbling, I threw the blanket over my head. I didn't even remember coming home last night. In a quick moment of guilt, I checked to make sure I was still fully clothed. Sighing with relief, I fumbled around in my bed for my phone. Finding a text message from Casey: _call me when you get up, or when you feel less dead. ;)_ I grumbled as a wave of nausea hit my stomach. It was only 8 in the morning. Fighting back another wave of nausea I dialed Casey.

"Hey sunshine!" he shouted, overly cheerful.

"You're a brat," I moaned, clenching my sheets to my stomach. If our situations were reversed I would have been doing the exact same thing to him.

"I didn't make you drink all that Jack, Miss Jennie," Casey teased.

"If I could see you right now, I would punch you."

"I bet you would." I tried to sit up again and looked to the nightstand to find three big glasses of water. I chugged the first one while I listened to him fumble with something in the background. "So tell me what you remember from last night."

"I remember Shane showing up, then I don't remember much else."

"Mhm, right and you're _sure_ you remember anything else?" I blinked and stared around the room, trying to spot if anything was out of place, anything resembling that I may have had a visitor at some point in the night, but couldn't find any. Nausea rocked through me again at the thought of drunkenly having sex with Shane Walsh. I had thought about it a few different times even though he was the asshole he was, but I knew in my mind that he had a girlfriend and I desperately didn't want to make my legacy in the town known as that. Especially when they still all thought I was in some deep entangled relationship with Casey and his girlfriend. It's not like we did much to calm that shit down either, we practically lived for the rumor now when were around town.

"Please don't tell me I did something bad," I grumbled, prepared to scoop my dignity off of the floor.

"It wasn't too bad," he replied.

"What do you mean by _too bad_?" I quipped. "Because you're acting pretty fucking rotten right now."

"Last night Megan texted me and said you and Shane had been outside for a while. I texted you to investigate you never responded so I came up to the bar and found you two making out by the entrance." I could feel whatever existed in the way of my stomach contents making their way upwards and the secondhand shame of my actions creeping onto me like a sweater of spiders.

"Jesus fucking Christ," I mumbled, desperate now to get out of bed and hunt Walsh down. I needed to know that we were both okay. I needed to know that our truce wasn't going to be effected now. It was all I could to apologize and make peace with him and now that we had kissed... what in the fuck were we supposed to do. He had a girlfriend at home. Why did he kiss me back if I kissed him first? Why did I even want to kiss him? I swallowed hard. I knew why. He was attractive. He was smooth. He made me laugh. Even if he pissed me off. I was ready for a relationship. And this is what it took for me to realize that, kissing another woman's boyfriend. It took the shame from this action to realize that I was ready.

"He seemed a little tipsy when I pulled up. And you were pretty damn mad at me for coming to get you."

"Did Shane say anything?"

"He didn't say much, no. Just that you both had a lot to drink."

"Perfect, just fucking perfect."

"Oh relax, we all get a little crazy every now and then." He was being so calm about it, it made me feel even worse. This was a big deal, whether he admitted it or not. I didn't just go around kissing men, especially not men I worked with. I felt the shame and fire of my decision wrap its way around my gut again. I started drinking the second glass of water on my nightstand and wondered why he would even kiss me back. We had just spent months hating each other. What had changed? And why did I even care? Why was I making it such a big deal? We had both been drinking. It was a typical thing that happened to people, you put alcohol into a situation, people start to flirt, and things happen. And in this case, we were two people who had put aside our differences, we're both lonely... after I started to rationalize it, I understood that we couldn't speak of it. It was a mistake on both of our counts. And I shouldn't have followed through with what I had. "Jen? Are you there?"

"Yeah, I'm here."

"So, what're you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that nothing happened," I told him, stabilizing myself on the side of the bed before walking to the bathroom.

"And you think that's a good idea?" Damn Casey and his thoughtful ass mind. He was always looking out for me. I loved him so much. "I don't think that's a good idea. You two have not idea what that kiss meant. Maybe you two are good for each other. You never know."

"No, what I know is that we are two lonely people who were drunk, and now we both have to live with what we've done. And I don't think either one of us wants whatever is that we are trying to find. At least we don't want it with each other."

"Sure. Okay. Be miserable."

"I'm not miserable."

"Sure you're not. You know I know you better than you know yourself so why are you even doing this? Why are you so afraid to talk to him about it?" I walked the rest of the way into the bathroom and took a good look at myself. Maybe he was right. Maybe I was too afraid to see what would happen. But, then I remembered what kind of guy Shane was. I remembered what his history was like with women and how he had treated me without even really knowing me. But could I blame him for that?

 

* * *

 

Later that night, Jennifer waited for Casey outside of her Uncle's house, it was their night for patrol. The sun was still trying to set and she had her aviators on, gripping a thermos of black coffee. Casey couldn't stop the smirk on his face. He pulled the car a few feet away from her in the small u-shaped driveway. She threw her messenger bag into the backseat and got in the car without making eye contact. "How is my Hungover Princess?"

"I ran out of Tylenol," she barked, "my head feels like it's being drilled by a jackhammer and I finally just started being able to eat food without feeling like I was going to vomit everywhere. Please take me to the store before I unload every single clip of ammunition I have in that bag." He nodded and drove the car back out onto the street, heading towards town. She sighed sharply and turned the radio off, staring out of the window at the now lavender sky. Casey contemplated saying anything, but he grew to the point where he could no longer help himself. He knew something was pissing her off on top of not feeling well.

"So did Shane call you?" he asked. He could hear her fuming before she even got the words out. She twisted in her seat a few times and sighed again. Her reaction caused her partner to balk. "What happened?" She shrugged, her focus still the outside world around them. "Jen? Are you okay? What happened?" The increasingly silent responses began to worry him more and more. He felt afraid that he had pushed her into too much too fast. He didn't want her to fall back into the person she had been when they had met. Thinking about it scared him to death. He had worked so hard to get her to be herself. He finally pulled the car over and shut it off.

"What are you doing?" she asked. He could hear the congestion in her voice.

"You can have your Tylenol after you tell me what happened." She turned to look at him and he smirked, realizing she still had her aviators on. "And take those damn things off, it's damn near dark outside." Slowly, she pulled the sunglasses off, her eyes were puffy and red. Casey let out a low hiss. "What happened?"

"Nothing," she answered quietly. "Absolutely nothing happened."

"Why did you kiss Shane last night?" he asked calmly, reaching out to hold her hand.

"I have no idea." He could hear the fragility in her voice again, wavering right on the edge of her snapping.

"Did you want to?"

"Yes," she answered, "I was the one who initiated it after he tried and we were interrupted."

"He didn't hurt you did he?" She laughed and shook her head, wiping away the tears from her already strained eyes. He wasn't the cause of the pain this time.

"I hurt myself," she whispered.

"Jen," he said her name in a breathy hiss, he reached out and pulled her across the bench seat of the police car, wrapping her up in a hug.

"He's got a girlfriend, Casey. _A girlfriend_. And I kissed him like the ignorant ass I am. Why? Why did I want to do that?" The guilt set in on Casey, he should have known better than to let her meet Shane alone. He shouldn't have depended on Megan to watch out for her, she had her own job to do. Shane was a notorious playboy and had somehow entangled himself into the mess of his already fragile best friend's mind. He should have been there to protect her. He should have known better than to encourage a relationship with someone who was already in one. "I just wish for like - I don't know - maybe a year of happiness. Just a solid year. No triggers. No stupid ass decisions. Just a year of happiness." He bit down on his lip and held her in the hug.

"I'm sorry," Casey mumbled into her hair, giving her a squeeze.

"It's not your fault, I knew what I was doing. _Why?_ Why did I do that?"

"You won't know until you talk to him about it." Jennifer laughed again, swiping at the tears on her cheek.

"Shane and I talk about anything sober?" she continued to laugh and pulled herself away from him. The idea of her and Shane sitting down and actually discussing the kiss would never happen and she knew that. They were just drunk and lonely. There was nothing more to it. Some part of that scared her. The idea that she was just lonely and picked Shane of all people. She knew nothing about him other than the fact that he was a cop and that he was a serial dater. That was it.

"How will you ever know it meant?"

"I already know what it meant," she snapped. "I'm lonely."

"I'm here for you."

"Yes, Casey, I know you're here for me, but not how I need."

"Well tell me," he insisted, draping his arm on the back of the bench seat. She gave him a look and he instantly knew what she meant. Jennifer was ready for a relationship, maybe not a full-fledged one, but some type of sexual relationship. "Well, ya got me there," he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "And you had to pick the man who is the most least likely to be nailed down to a female in this fucking town."

"Don't remind me," she quipped, crossing her arms. "I didn't pick him. I mean he's hot. He's a cop. He makes me laugh. But I wouldn't pick him for those reasons. I mean - I guess I did - well - I just. I don't know. I was drunk."

"So you should talk to him." She looked at him and back at the road.

"You said something about Tylenol. And before you give me an even bigger headache, how about you start there?"

 

* * *

 

Shane paced in his bedroom later that night. He walked across his bedroom numerous times, staring at his cellphone on his dresser. Every time he outstretched his arm to call Jennifer, he retracted it. He overplayed the scene again and again in his mind. She kissed him. He was going to kiss her, he didn't and then she kissed him. He didn't make it up. Lila was curled up on his bed, facing towards the closet, sound asleep. She was listening to some rain sounds track, her ear buds smothering out any noise Shane could possibly be making to wake her from her sleep. He bit down on his lower lip and combed his hands through his hair. What did it matter what she had seen in that instant? She had been drinking and who knew what she could have been feeling. For all he knew it could have been loneliness which was what he was assuming. She didn't want to do anything with him. She was simply reaching out in her drunken state. Jennifer had been flirting most of the night and he had reacted first. She had been flirting though. She never flirted with him.

"Just do it already," he mumbled, reaching out to grab it again. He turned and looked at Lila, the guilt hit his chest. He was doing it, all over again. Shane was turning himself into that person he hated, he was ready to drop Lila and move onto the next woman willing to show him any amount of attention. Jennifer wasn't the woman in his bed, Lila was. Lila was the one curled up in his old football t-shirt, listening to that annoying ass rain sound mix that he hated so much. He felt the strong urge to grab the phone again, yet instead, rolled over and cradled Lila against his chest, knowing he wouldn't find the will to sleep soon, most of thoughts resting on Jennifer.

Morning crept upon him like the flu. He could feel his joints ache and pop, his eyes heavy with the sleep he didn't get. Lila was gone when he woke up, already at work. He stretched out across the bed and willed himself to sleep. After two hours of lying wide awake, he found his Benadryl capsules in the bathroom, took a couple and chased it down with a beer, praying it would keep him asleep until the evening.


	6. Chapter 6

**In the next chapter, it will pick up/end where the pilot starts with Rick getting shot, etc. I promise their relationship will start to form in the oncoming chapters after that.**

**10/28/16 - edits and re-upload**

* * *

 

 

 

**CHAPTER**

**SIX**

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jennifer stood in line at the grocery store, her feet heavy, head groggy. No matter how much saline solution she had used on her eyes, they still felt like that had been rubbed with sand. She blinked heavily a few times again, adjusting her stance in line. There was a shout and she crouched out of instinct, her hand instantly hovering to the holster on her side where her gun was. She was too hungover for this. "You stay right there!" yelled the voice. "I'm calling the police!" Jennifer raised up from the line, looking to see where the voice was coming from. Her hand stayed over her holster as she scanned the scene ahead of her. The man behind the register made eye contact. "Officer, _thank god_ you're here!" he shouted, waving for her to come forward. She rolled her eyes inwardly as three pairs of eyes in front of her in line turned to look at her. Yep, definitely too hungover. "I need you up here, right now!"

"Something I can help you with?" she asked, attempting to keep her voice even. It wasn't even the start of her shift yet, but duty had already called.

"This kid is stealin' from me!" The man's eyes glanced between her and something standing at his register, Jennifer quietly exhaled, trying to keep her mind straight between the glaring lights and her pounding head. All she wanted was the Tylenol. That was it. Why did life have to be this complicated? Her hand rubbed the bridge of her nose, trying to help her pick the next action: call in someone on duty or deal with it herself. The weight of the uniform hung heavily on her shoulders. With that thought in mind, she approached the counter slowly to find a young kid, no older than 16, hanging his head in shame.

"What's up, kid?" she asked, looking down at him.

"I'll tell you what's up!" the clerk shouted, slamming his hands on the counter. Jennifer's eyes closed and she placed her hands on her utility belt before making eye contact with the heavyset balding man again. She had seen him a few times when she came in at night. She hadn't made it a habit of speaking to him because usually went to the gas station. Of all the nights she had come to in... something was happening.

"Sir, I'm gonna have to ask you to be quiet," she clipped. "Let me do the interrogating. I don't need to hear anything from you unless you're spoken to, understand?" The man's face turned a bright shade of red. " _Understand_?" she repeated with a stern look, warning evident in her voice.

"Yeah."

"So, what happened?" she asked, glancing back down at the kid. He was wearing a dirty hooded sweatshirt, holes scattered about the sleeves. His head was low, eyes focused on the ground below him. He sniffed and shrugged his shoulders. Her eyes continued their investigation, looking at the unkempt scraggles of dark brown hair on his head. He smelled, and not in a good way. He reeked of body odor. "I'm not going hurt you, kid. I'm not going to arrest you or any of that, just tell me what happened."

"She hasn't eaten in two days, ma'am," his small voice told her.

"Who hasn't?" she asked.

"My little sister," he sniffed. "She's only a few months old. My mom didn't have the money to buy her formula so I was going to take it. I was gonna pay him back, I swear." The young boy was crying now, rubbing tears from his cheeks. Jennifer could slowly feel herself coming undone, imagining a tiny baby at home with no food to eat, crying and starving. She swallowed hard, unaware that she couldn't hear the man behind the counter shouting.

"It doesn't matter If you were gonna pay me back, you were stealin' from me!" he shouted. "He stole an' I want him arrested!"

"Look, no one is getting arrested," she tried to explain calmly. The man raised his voice even louder, his face turning a shade of red. "This kid is no more than 16 years old!" she yelled back. Her head fell, defeated. There was no simple way out of this. She wasn't going to arrest a kid or make it a big deal. He clearly needed help. No kid trying to cause trouble looked this pathetic. If he was that good at acting, he deserved whatever she was going to buy for him anyway regardless. "Kid, go grab five cans of formula and come back." The teenager stood in his same position, unsure of what to do. "Hurry up, I'm supposed to start my shift in about fifteen minutes!" There was a sharp squeak from his shoes as he ran to the baby aisle to grab what she had told him to. Jennifer and the clerk stood, their eye contact unbroken even as the kid dropped the cans of formula on the belt. "Ring them up," she ordered, reaching for her wallet in her back pocket.

"I ain't doin' anything!" he scoffed.

"I'm the one who's buying them, I asked for them, now ring them up!" she shouted, picking up one of the cans and slamming it down on the belt.

"I'm callin' Deputy Grimes!" he yelled, picking up his phone.

"Call whoever the hell you want," Jennifer yelled back. "Call the goddamn president!" She placed a hundred dollar bill on his belt. "It should be more than enough to cover the formula and this Tylenol." She shook the pill bottle in her hand. The boy looked between the both of them. "Grab the formula and let's go." She punched the bill again to reiterate her demands and opened a bag, allowing the kid to place the cans inside. "Come on, kid, I'll take you home," she told him calmly as the man behind the counter continued to yell.

"You're gonna be in so much shit! I'm gonna get you fired!"

"Good luck and good night, prick," she tacked on, giving him a salute before turning on her heel to follow the young boy outside.

 

* * *

 

Rick was waiting for Shane at the office like his usual, sifting through paperwork and old mail, trying to figure out what he had done with Carl's registration paperwork for basketball. He huffed as he lifted another pile of paperwork. Shane came in as Rick sat down at his desk, sighing as he found another pile of papers stashed away in his cabinet that he had completely forgotten about. Shane looked distraught, his eyebrows threaded together, his jaw clenched. He had already snapped his toothpick in half on his way over, still angry at himself for the way he was reacting to last night. Jennifer wasn't his to lose his cool about, so why was he even doing it? "Whoa!" Rick snapped as his partner shoved the door to his office open, sending some of the paperwork to the floor. "What the hell is goin' on with you so early in the night?" Rick asked, bending down to pick up the loose papers. "You an' Lila get into it before work?" This was the cause for most of Shane's foul moods before work. Usually he just jumped straight into ranting about it though, there was never this much unnecessary work about it.

"Nah," Shane answered, doing his best to keep his voice even. "I don't really wanna talk about it." He sniffed and adjusted the front of his uniform, throwing his broken toothpick into the trash. In reality he did want to talk about it. He wanted to drive straight over to Jennifer's house and make her tell him what was going between the both of them. He wanted to know if she was worth. If any of it was really worth it. He needed to know.

"Well sit down an' relax before you give yourself a heart attack, I still need to find this paperwork for Carl before Lori hangs me outside on our front lawn." Rick smiled at Shane to see if he would get a reaction, and Shane's face hadn't changed. He was still standing just inside the door, his chest pumping. Usually at least one wise crack was enough to draw a smirk from his best friend, but he got nothing. "Sit down, will ya? _Christ._ You're gonna make me have a heart attack jus' from lookin' at ya." Listening to his partner, he sat down before his desk this time, rubbing his hands down the armrest of the chair. "From now, Lori's gonna start takin' all the paperwork an' keepin' it at home! I got too much goin' on up here to worry about some _damn_ basketball paper!" He stared down at a fan of papers in his hands, quickly eyeing each one before tossing them into stacks. He and Lori had been arguing a lot more often than usual. Their arguments ranged from everything to how much time he was spending at home to how little he was involved in Carl's sports, how little he seemed interested in his school work. Rick didn't know how all of that worked. He tried to make it to games as often as he could. Just because Carl had a basketball game didn't mean the town just stopped needing protecting for a couple of hours.

"Jennifer kissed me last night," Shane admitted, looking over to one of the pictures of Rick and Carl out by his parent's lake house from last summer. Rick stopped mid-shuffle and sat his paperwork down with a slow sigh. "An' I don't know what I'm supposed to do about it."

"Well, did ya want it to happen?"

"Ya know, the shittiest thing is that I did want it to happen. I've wanted it to happen for a while. She ain't like the girls from around here. She's actually been to college, she's been to the academy, she takes care of herself, an' she doesn't let people step down on her. There ain't a girl like that around here that ain't already married or already spoken for. I like her, an' I feel so damn stupid for it. But there's no talkin' to her, she's so damn smart an' so damn stubborn at the same time, what do ya do with a woman like that? Like I won't be able to talk about what happened with her - damn near ever, unless she gets drunk enough to talk about it."

"An' how do you know that, Shane?"

"You've talked to her, you know how she is. She's stubborn, she ain't gonna talk to me about this."

"Why are you upset about it then?"

"'Cause of Lila an' 'cause I wasn't exactly mad that it happened either. I want it to happen again. An' that's why I'm mad." Rick drummed his knuckles on his desk and threw a stack of papers into the trash. There was nothing important in that pile that hadn't already been filed twenty times over or processed. "I jus' don't know what to do. I've been _tryin'_ to be good, I've been _tryin'_ to stay with _one_ woman, ya know? Do it the _right_ way. I wanna have a family someday, Rick, but I jus' don't know if I'm cut out for it, that's all."

"Don't say that, Shane. You just haven't found the right one yet."

"Yeah? _An' what if I never find the right one?_ What am I supposed to do then? Jus' be some low life cop who takes home a different girl from the bar every night? That's _not_ the life I want. That's not who I am."

"Look, I know that's not who you are, but if this's somethin' you want - you gotta work on it. An' ain't nobody that can do that, but you. If you want Lila, I'll help you the best I can, I'll tell you how to quit gettin' so damn mad about the small stuff an' try an' teach you how to communicate with her. An' same goes for Jennifer, I'll do whatever I can to help you there, but you jus' gotta let me know what you want. I'm your partner. I can't jus' make up your mind for you. I know it ain't easy to do, but I can't help you there." Shane rubbed his jaw and his face for a minute and before looking at Rick. He sniffed and glanced around the room once as Rick went back to sorting his paperwork, still desperate to find that paper for Lori. Shane looked around the room for a moment, concentrating on nothing of particular interest. He was hoping the answer to his question would jump out at him without him having to really think about it.

"What if I don't know who I want to be?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, raising his eyebrows to meet Rick's gaze.

"Then it ain't fair to keep stringin' Lila along if you're gonna keep havin' run in's with Jennifer like that. An' it's not gonna help you make up your mind on the situation either. You need'ta have your head clear. An' I know it's hard for you to be alone, but jus' try it out for a bit an' see how things go. Jennifer may come around if she knows you're not tied down."

"You're right," Shane sighed. It made sense to him. Why should he string one along if he wasn't really sure what he wanted? It wasn't fair to Lila for him to keep seeing Jennifer like that. He knew it deep down. He had been working hard on making things work with her though. Was she really worth it though? He wante dto kiss Jennifer. He admitted it. "How're you always right?" He gave Rick a lopsided smile, staring down at the fabric of the chair.

"I'm _not_ always right," Rick quipped back in a short lived laugh. "If I was always right I'd know where this _goddamn_ paper had suddenly fled off to." There was a loud chirp of Rick's radio. He jumped out of anger and surprise at the unwelcome noise, wanting nothing more than to take the radio and shove it right in the trashcan with his other paperwork. "Goddamn, can't get no more than 5 minutes of calm around here," he muttered, jamming his finger down on the button.

"Rick, it's Tim, you need to head on down to the market an' fast. Your girl has caused quite a stir down there, Leroy is damn near ready to hunt her down and fire her himself. You might wanna take Shane for muscle, he's non-too happy at the moment." Rick's ears perked up the sound of his boss's voice. His boss rarely ever called him unless one of his deputies had stepped severely out of line. He watched Shane's eyebrows relax at the mention of his name and 'your girl.'

"I'll handle it, Tim. I'll head on down there right now," Rick spoke back. He released his thumb off of the button and cursed again under his breath. "Speakin' of the damn devil. Let's go see what the hell go ol' Leroy is pissed off about now," Rick muttered, grabbing his jacket and hat from his side table.

They drove in almost complete silence to the market, the only talk being that the dispatcher was asked to call Jennifer to the market before he went inside. Rick wanted to hear for himself what really happened before listening to Leroy ramble for twenty minutes about nothing. Rick pulled the patrol car to a stop right near the automatic doors of the market, glancing around for any sign of Casey and Jennifer. He stepped out as he watched their squad car pull to a stop just behind him. "You wanna explain to me what the hell happened here earlier tonight?" Rick barked, hands on his hips as he glanced between the rookies. Jennifer stepped out of the car and shut the door, shedding herself of her jacket, she dangled it from the side mirror.

"It was me," Jennifer told him, coming up to the front of their patrol car. Shane got out of the car at the same time, leaning against his door in a nonchalant way, attempting not to look in her direction.

"What the hell did you do?"

"I might have cussed at the clerk, and possibly called him a prick," she tacked on with a wince. She knew what she had done was bad, but she couldn't help herself. Leroy deserved it.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ, Morgan. _What for_?" She bit her lip and looked down at the ground. She was quiet for a moment, trying to work her mind around how to tell him. "Well, what happened?" He tried to calm himself down, realizing that he may be the one overreacting when it could have been as something as simple as her looking at Leroy the wrong way. He had received plenty of phone calls from Leroy complaining about the dignity of his officers.

"There was a kid in there, stealing, no more than 16, Rick. He was just trying to feed his little sister, okay? I wasn't even on duty yet and I got called up from waiting in line to come deal with it. When I told that ass- _that man_ , that I was going to pay for some formula for the kid to take home, he got really pissed. Started yelling, just getting out of control, more so than what he already was, and I already had my money out, I was ready to pay. But he just kept yelling. And I finally just left, I left my money on his scanner and I left." Shane smiled at this, but kept his eyes on the sliding doors, watching a group of people leave the store and gawk at the officers, internally manifesting some grand story about what had happened inside the very store they were leaving.

"An' that's all that happened?" Rick asked. "You weren't even on the clock yet?"

"No, go watch the tape for yourself if you don't believe me! We just finished dropping the kid off at his house, Casey and I made sure his mom and everyone were alright." Rick put his hands on his hips and sighed. "I'll take whatever discipline I've earned. And you don't have to worry about me retaliating or being pissed off about it, okay? But I _wasn't_ going to let an innocent baby starve."

"Just shut up now, okay? An' listen to me," Rick told her, closing the gap between them, his finger raised. She dropped her head down out of embarrassment, wishing she could shrink herself into a puddle and will herself into the next storm drain. "Let me give you a tip on how to play superhero next time, _first_ : you pretend to arrest the kid okay? You act really offended an' mad like whatever he did was probably the worst thing you've ever seen in your life. _Second_ , you take the kid outside an' you take the handcuffs off - " Jennifer's eyes lifted from the ground and up to his. "You tell him you're not arresting him an' you drive him to another store out of town. _Third_ , You tell him about the current tools in place to help him an' his sister, you buy him all the food or whatever is he needs for a few days, then you drive him home. You _make_ him promise you that he will use those resources or you _will_ have to follow the protocol the next time." She gave him a closed lip smile that didn't reach her eyes and nodded. She never expected him to say this. She knew Rick was respected and helped out around town way more than what was required of him, but this was completely unexpected. "Understand?"

"I do," she answered, wiping her eyes to keep herself from crying.

"That way, I don't have to go in here an' argue with this damn idgit for the next hour about what your punishment is gonna be."

"I'm sorry, Rick, I really am. I just -" Rick stopped her by holding up his hand. He was tired. He didn't want to hear anymore. He enough to worry about.

"Just promise me you'll do it the way I told you next time. _My way_." She nodded. "Now go on before I make you organize my office or wash my car. An' try to keep your asses out of trouble for the next 24 hours," he quipped, casting a glare filled with warning to Casey before rounding the patrol car to head inside. Shane followed closely behind, not turning to look at Jennifer. She watched him walk the rest of the way inside before heading to her side of the car and getting in. He turned to look after he had made it inside, internally damning himself for not saying anything to her. Rick whistled loudly to get Shane's attention. "Quit day dreamin' an' let's get in here an' get this over with. We can talk about all that shit later." Leroy was on break when the men entered, sitting in the small cafe area near the cashier's lines. He was positioned over a few magazines, slurping loudly on a can of pineapple juice. He smiled to himself when he saw the officers approach him. Nothing made him feel better about himself than having the ability to drag someone else down. It made his night, especially knowing he was about to inflict some type of punishment on a woman who would never give him the time of day. Part of him was daydreaming about what it would be like to be there that moment Rick spoke to her. Watching her cry and beg for him not to punish her.

"What can I do for you tonight, Leroy?" Rick asked, attempting to give the man a small smile. Shane stood behind Rick, his face straight and even. Leroy smiled at the both of them, running a hand through his thin brown hair. He leaned back in his chair, propping himself by the tips of his toes.

"That female officer that was in here tonight, she was an accomplice in a criminal act an' I'd like to report it." Shane bit down on the inside of his cheek. "I want her an' that little shit that stole from me to be charged with theft."

"I see. An' did the boy actually steal anything?"

"Well, no, he didn't, I caught an' stopped him before he did." He sounded downright proud of himself, and made sure to look it too. "I should'a jus' wen' ahead an' went to the academy since y'all make it look so damn easy. Hell, they let that _little bitch_ in an' then y'all went ahead an' gave her a _damn_ job." Shane stepped forward and Rick turned to give his partner a look. They made eye contact and Shane took his step back.

"So you stopped him an' then she paid for their things an' she left?"

"I asked for that little shit to be charged an' arrested an' she resisted me of my civil rights, then _she_ was an accomplice in the act."

"Did she have any evidence that the kid stole anything?" Shane piped in, finally unable to contain himself any longer.

"I have it on tape," Leroy replied with a smile. He pointed a chubby finger to the ceiling above them. Shane's eyes rose up to meet the cameras he already knew were in place.

"Did she see this tape?" Shane asked, eyes narrowed.

"Well, no, she didn't ask."

"If you can't provide evidence at the time the crime is reported, then she had no right to arrest him. If you had evidence at the time, you should have presented it." He felt that familiar smirk work its way onto his face. Shane had him right where he wanted him. There was no escaping this. "Her judgment told her that there was no probable cause. Therefore you're arguin' for really _no damn reason_. So why're we _really_ here, Leroy? You already know how all'of this goes." He gave a wave of his hand and placed his hands on his hips. "Why?" Leroy's face turned a bright shade of red, he bit down on his lower lip hard.

"Get out! Get out ya bunch of worthless pieces of shits!" he yelled, pointing at the door. "I'd like ta know when the damn police are gonna start doin' their jobs around here! This ain't a damn charity! I got my own bills to pay!" he yelled at the officer's backs. Rick smiled to his partner as the pair walked to the patrol car.

 

* * *

 

 

Back at the police station, in the rows of twenty desks, Jennifer sat at hers, staring at her radio, praying for a call. She wanted something to drag her out of Rick's radar. Casey sat in the bay with the squad car, washing it down and shining up the tires. She exhaled slowly and laid her forehead down onto the cool wooden desk. The kid that she had helped earlier in the night was safe at home with food for his sister thanks to her. She had written down his address to drop off pamphlets in the morning like Rick had told her. The inside of the apartment that the family lived in was riddled in filth, dirty clothes and trash lined the baseboards in the main rooms she could see. Dirty dishes lined the sink in the kitchen, and she could hear the baby wailing in the next room, loud enough that she was surprised none of the neighbors had called regarding a noise ordinance. It was a hell hole to say the least.

"Hey," a quiet voice spoke. It was just enough to make her jump, her mind still wrapped up in the scene that had played out not too long ago. "Jesus, I'm sorry, I – " She rose her head from her desk and made eye contact with Shane. The sweater of spiders was back, creeping up her neck and down her legs this time.

"Hey – " she replied, unsure at first on how to respond. "How'd that go back there?"

"Like shit," he told her with a laugh. "But you're fine. He technically didn't give you any evidence or tell you he had any, so you're in the clear."

"Fuck." Shane sat down in the chair of the desk ahead of hers, turning it around to face her. He took his jacket off and picked up a paper clip from her small bowl, unfolding it with anxiety. His dark eyebrows threaded together as he concentrated on it. "Is Rick pissed?"

"Nah, don't worry about him. He's fine." They sat silently for a moment, her looking over the way he was unraveling the paperclip slowly. She watched as he bit down on his lip and licked the spot he had bitten, eyes full of concentration on the thin piece of metal.

"And how are you?" she asked, breaking her eyes away from his face. The question opened up more than what she had bargained for. She didn't know what else to ask him or what else to talk about. His brown eyes rose up from his task and his jaw grew tighter.

"We need ta talk about what happened last night," Shane told her. Jennifer's head shook back and forth on command. Her chest felt like it was being squeezed, like he had taken the paperclip and shoved the sharp end right where the pain was coming from. The paperclip fell from his hands, his body moving to come to her side. He crouched down on the floor beside her.

"No we don't," she spoke, her body locked into its place facing the desk. He made an attempt at trying to turn her towards him and she resisted.

" _Yes_ , we do."

"Shane, I think its best we both agree nothing happened. We were both drinking and just got a little carried away, that's all."

"I think we both know that's not all that happened," he admitted. Jennifer's green eyes flicked over to him. There was an unspoken emotion that passed between the two of them. They both knew there was more to it, but how were they supposed to admit it to each other when they couldn't even admit it to themselves.

"You have a girlfriend. _Unless you've forgotten about that_."

"No, I haven't, that's why _we need_ to talk about this."

"What's there to talk about!?" she exclaimed, feeling the heat rise in the conversation. "We are two people of the opposite sex who were out drinking together. We flirted and then kissed. Without alcohol, who are we to each other?" In reality she was afraid. She was afraid of what that all meant. Just because she was ready for someone didn't mean she was entirely ready. The reasoning played out to Shane in a way he was all too familiar with. She was right. He could feel it. She wasn't interested in him. There was no way she could be. They had both been out drinking and flirting. Valid reasons. Piss poor reasons, but valid in his eyes. He nodded.

"You're right," he spoke, unable to maintain the discussion any longer. There was no more of a reason to talk about it. What he had seen in her for a moment what was he had seen in every woman: just a cheap quick shot at a moment of happiness, a release, a short burst in the loneliness. "I didn't mean to bring it up, I just needed to understand what it was about."

"Sorry to disappoint." He walked back to the front of her desk and grabbed the paperclip he had been focusing on. With a few quick pinches he returned it to its proper shape and tossed it back into her bowl.

"Me too," he whispered. "You have a good night an' stay safe. Try not to beat yourself up too much about tonight, okay?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: So, I was really hoping the romancing would happen this chapter but after some adjustments, it was just going to be a really long chapter and I try to keep it right around 5k words. Definitely NEXT chapter there WILL be some fun that everyone has been waiting for. I promise.**

**10/28/16 - edits and story line additions**

* * *

 

 

 

**CHAPTER**

**SEVEN**

 

 

* * *

 

Spring fell upon Georgia, slowly easing its way back into the sweltering heat that Jennifer couldn't stand. She rested herself up against the side of the patrol car after she and Casey had finished up a disturbing the peace call. A couple of kids had taken it upon themselves to have a small concert in their backyard. They let the kids off with a warning, clearing out the small fenced in area, Jennifer keeping her head clear when the heat made her want to do nothing more than scream. A sticky film had already began to form its way under the long brown pants of her uniform. "Why didn't we pick some nice New England town to settle down in?" Jennifer asked her partner with a whine. The heat was stirring up a lot of unusual behaviors around town. There was a lot of talk on the news and on television about weird 'illnesses' cropping up around the world, just small little bits here and there on the news with no real details.

"Where would the fun be in that?" he asked with a laugh, agreeing with her on the inside. "It's never too late to transfer I guess. We could always shoot for New York." Her face became serious and she pulled her aviators on. With her personality she knew she wouldn't make it in a large city like that. Casey laughed, shaking his head. "Come on, I know you better than that."

"Are you sure?" They both sat down in the car and she turned to look at him and it was her turn to laugh. "Now turn that A/C on, I can't much more of this heat today!" she quipped, fanning herself with her hat.

"You know my trip is coming up soon, right?"

"Yes."

"Are you going to be alright when I'm gone?"

"I'm going to cry every night," she teased, reaching over to blast the A/C when she realized he wasn't going for it.

"I'm serious." He placed his hand on hers and smiled sadly. He was becoming more and more concerned with Jennifer after her incident at the bar with Shane. She seemed more closed off than usual and he wasn't sure what to do or how to handle it. "I don't want you to worry about me. I don't want you to go crazy either. Did Rick tell you what you're going to do without me?"

"Not really," she answered with a shrug. "He talked about desk work - which with this heat, I may not mind it that much." He nodded, thinking about his partner being out on the road by herself with him gone. His trip was less than a month away and he knew it had been affecting her whether she had said so or not.

"You and I both know that desk would drive you to the point of insanity."

"You're probably right." Casey drove them off to some small diner just on the outside of town for lunch. Inside the television was on, talking briefly about the illness hitting some town just outside of Chicago. They had placed the man in quarantine and had deemed the town as safe. The media never did show pictures of the victims, only describing them as resembling an animal with rabies: rabid and unable to reasoned with. "I bet that illness is nothing more than bad bath salts," he stated, grabbing them a small booth away from the television. The vague description of how the illness was spreading on top of the symptoms was letting everyone's imagination run wild with the news.

"I don't think so."

"How can you _not_ think so? All the signs are there! Rabid, insane, unable to be reasoned with? You don't remember that guy who got his face bitten off from a man high on bath salts?"

"I don't think they're related." Jennifer picked up a menu and looked it over, already knowing what was on front and back of the long piece of laminated paper. She looked at it carefully, eyeballing each side as she spoke.

"Why?"

"Illnesses come out all of the time, just think about it. Remember when we got that call in Linden County for the guy that was infected? You think they can honestly afford bath salts over there? They can barely afford to buy beer."

"All I'm saying is, how do we know they aren't related?"

"Casey," she started, putting the menu down. "You really think that just out of nowhere _everyone_ around the world has started taking _bath salts_? They're calling it an illness, okay? These people are severely sick. They wouldn't post up on the news about some random junkies overdosing." The media wouldn't waste time on such things. It wasn't an election year.

"It's not an overdose, it's a bad batch."

"Uh-huh, sure." The server walked up and put her pad and pencil away. She was older, in her fifties, her blonde hair starting to gray around her forehead. A greasy white apron tied around her black tank top and jeans. A blue and white name badge on the pocket read: Charlaine. She had been taking their orders for months now.

"Lemme guess, y'all want your usuals?" she drawled with a smile.

"Yeah, it'll be the usual for me, please," Casey replied, returning the smile.

"Just give me whatever the hell it is he eats, I never remember," Jennifer told her with a smile. "I don't want to eat my usual, something's not sitting well with me today." Casey's smile fell. "What?" she quipped.

"What's wrong?" She shrugged, staring out the window at the farm next door.

"You _are_ upset I'm going aren't you?" he asked as Charlaine walked away.

"No!" The words came out faster than she had anticipated. "No," she repeated, much slower. "I just feel kind of off today, nothing related to you."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm 100% certain."

"Is it that time of the month?" His left eyebrow quirked up and Jennifer's eyes bounced over to his face. She did her best to make a serious face at him and he did the same back to her. Trying to bring up the mood when things were headed south: Casey, without fail. He had been wondering for the last week if he and Megan should cancel their trip. He thought maybe if they waited a few more months and waited until Jennifer was better acquainted and more calm that it would be easier for him to leave her. At the same time, if she knew what he had been thinking, he would know she would pissed.

"I'll make you have your time of the month if you don't shut up!" she teased, throwing her wadded up straw paper in his direction.

"That sounds painful!" he winced, moving out of the way of her straw paper.

"That's because it will be!"

"So are you going to tell me what's up?"

"It's probably nothing, I don't know. I did eat some weird food last night."

"Oh! Shit! Your date with the guy from Linden PD, good old - what's his name again?"

"Allen. _Allen_ is his name, Casey."

"Yes! Allen! How was it?" She an off face and bounced her head back and forth.

"Mediocre."

"That's all I get? _Mediocre?_ Seriously! Tell me how it was."

"There's not much to say honestly. I mean, he's a cop too, obviously. _Very serious_. Didn't talk much, and you already know how that went for me."

"You two barely said more than maybe five words to each other. That's how it went, you just told me all I need to know. I don't want to hear anymore." He had tried to make it a double date, but Megan insisted she let Jennifer try something on her own for once. It was all he could do to not play mother hen and show up anyway. Megan wouldn't let him.

"I don't know what to say!"

"I can't be everywhere with you! I can only double date with you so often! You want me to hold your hand on the date too?"

"Well it would certainly help," she teased.

"Oh, shut up."

"Well, as the side chick, I have to say that's pretty rude of you to say."

"You're a little shit."

"Yes, I know." The smile on her face was telling. Charlaine placed their food before them, a turkey club with a side salad.

 

* * *

 

I pulled myself out of the booth behind Casey. The hour for lunch had passed too quickly. I gave the cashier at the counter a nod and continued to follow Casey outside, instantly wishing I could be inside the minute the air hit my skin. "Fuck," I moaned, sitting my hat on my head. The beach sounded so nice. I still hadn't found the time to go, no matter how much I promised myself. Every ounce of my free time was still wrapped up in the farm house. I had finally found the time to figure what in the hell was making the porch droop. That was my newest project. The wood on the far end of the porch was rotting away and probably had been since the day the damn house was built. It was a pain in the ass to fix. "This is miserable."

"It's not even summer yet," Casey taunted, getting into the patrol car. Halfway tempted, I stared at the backseat, not even wanting to walk the rest of the way to the passenger side. I walked to my side and plopped down, thankful we didn't have leather seats like some of the other patrol cars. "Have you heard from Hansen?" Casey asked, pulling out of the small parking lot.

"No, I thought you might have?" Hansen had taken a short leave to check on sister in Atlanta. She had a run in with someone on the street that had shaken her up pretty badly. She was even afraid to leave the house to go to work, completely unable to do anything without someone else with her at all times. Hansen didn't want to go from what he had told us, but he felt like it was his brotherly duty and duty as an officer to check up on her.

"I need to call him later tonight. Don't let me forget." We drove down the road in silence, heading back into town. We passed Rick and Shane, and I instinctively turned my head in the opposite direction, choosing to look a few guys who were putting some mulch along their store's entryway. Shane and I still had our problems. We were still barely speaking to each other after the incident at the bar. I didn't know what to say half the time. What were you supposed to say in situations like those? I sure as fuck didn't know.

"Still?" Casey asked, peering over at me.

"Still what?"

"You two still aren't speaking?"

"We speak!"

"And what is it you say to each other?" I looked back him and smiled. So we may have only said pleasantries to each other, but it was a lot better than the first time we didn't speak to each other. We tried to carry on conversations, but it always seemed to awkward. I can't explain how. Maybe it was just me. Or maybe it was the fact that everyone in town knew what I had done.

"The usual stuff, you know how that goes."

"He hasn't had a girlfriend since what? Christmas time?"

"And?"

" _And?_ "

"What's that got to do with me?" I asked, turning down the air conditioning after finally finding some relief from the sweltering conditions.

"Nothing I guess." I could tell over the last few months that Casey had grown entirely less likely to prod me for in depth answers to his questions. Part of it was seriously beginning to freak me out to the point that I had started to bore him. But he always did know the timing and areas he could press and how often. He had known pressing me for Allen was enough. And that was something I loved about our friendship. It wasn't one long interrogation after another, sometimes he knew it was best to just let me be me. If I only I could find that in a man my age and date for a while.

Rumors still spun the mill around King's County, the famous female officer with an attempt for tied down men. She even made one man commit to him and his girlfriend. She made another officer leave his girlfriend in hopes at a relationship with her. The rumors did nothing more than make me laugh after some time. The rumors didn't appear to be so funny when it was me making the call to find out "what the funny noise was behind their house" or show up when something of theirs had been stolen. The pride I felt when pulling up in front of someone's house, willing to help them no matter what their opinion was of me, was the best feeling I could have hoped for. It gave me a chance I had at proving them wrong, that I was more than some pathetic homewrecker. Of course, it didn't help that Casey and Megan totally kept on with the antics that I was involved with the both of them.

"I noticed that Shane didn't have a girlfriend," I admitted, looking over at my best friend. "I noticed, okay?" I noticed the day after Christmas when Shane was sulking around the precinct, looking the saddest I had seen him in awhile. Apparently, Lila had broken up with him the day before Christmas Eve unable to 'live the lie anymore.' I tried as hard as I could to approach him, but like usual, I was at a loss for words. I felt bad. I knew part of it was my fault. A part of me wanted to scream out that this was finally my chance to make a move, but he looked so sad. Trying to make a move right after a break up felt like a cheap shot on my part. I just couldn't bring myself to do it.

"Well, he's not in a relationship so I figured you wouldn't be interested now. You'll wait until he decides to shack up with someone else."

"That's the way my luck goes." We stopped just on the opposite end of town, sitting just outside of the new car dealership that was being built. "Do you think we sell enough cars in this po-dunk ass town to have a car dealership?"

"Probably not," he laughed, stealing a glance at the freshly paved parking lot.

"I think it's all scam, you know? Like how do these places stay in business?"

"Bad bath salts, probably." I laughed this time, barely able to contain myself.

"This time, you probably are right." The crackling of the radio made me jump almost immediately, unprepared for the sound. I turned up the volume and hunched over.

"All available units, high speed pursuit in progress Linden County units request local assistance," the voice announced. I looked over at Casey. "Two suspects in the vehicle, both armed. Proceed with caution." He took off immediately as I listened over the sirens for the meet up point. Shane's voice came on over the radio, saying something about putting some tire spikes down. Casey replied to the dispatch that we were on our way while I checked the ammunition and clip in my gun before fastening it back into the holster, watching the road ahead of us. A high speed chase with armed suspects, I wasn't exactly ready for this. We barely learned about this at school, because it rarely happened. I sank back against the seat, feeling the adrenaline rush as we arrived on scene. Shane and Rick had just finished laying down the spikes, when we both heard it, the sound of an engine and the distant sounds of sirens.

We exited the car as quickly as possible, and positioned ourselves behind our car just as Shane and Rick did the same. I tried to focus my breathing, trying not to let it get away from me right there on the side of the road. The tires hit the spikes with a loud pop, the sirens continued to wail over the shouting. There was a lot of yelling from Rick. Typical orders, 'get out with your hands up', 'keep your hands where I can see them', 'step out of the vehicle slowly.' Casey and I crept up along side our patrol car and met up with Shane and Rick where our cars met. Rick yelled some more and looked at the three of us. "Take it easy when y'all step out, okay? Ain't no use in us gettin' shot," he commanded us. He nodded over at the officers from Linden County, one of them being Allen. I felt my stomach lurch and gurgle. That was definitely not who I needed to see at this time.

"Alright, enough is _enough_ , they're obviously not gettin' out of the damn car. Let's go," Rick ordered. We all sank down behind him. I propped myself up, with my arms on the hood of the car for support. I barely noticed how hot the metal was under my skin. My eyes were glued on the door, ready to shoot. "Come on out! Last warnin'!" The door flew open, Casey, Rick, and Shane all three standing with their guns raised. Casey side-stepped out of the way and into my line of sight. There were three loud bangs. I yelled for Casey to move. He fell to the ground in with a loud, harsh cry. His hands instantly reaching down to his right leg. There was another shout as Rick fell to the ground as well. I felt like all of time stopped. My breath caught in my chest in the most uncomfortable way. How was it possible for me to choke on air? The officers from Linden County fired off a round and brought the two suspects to their feet. My heart stopped staring at Rick and Casey on the ground. Shane yelled and fell to Rick's side. I quickly stood and ran to my partner who was now actively crying and bleeding. Unable to focus on much of anything I kept my focus on the bleeding from his leg. It was gushing out actively from the bullet hole, quickly soaking his uniform pants in his blood.

"Oh Christ, it hurts so bad!" he cried, holding his leg just above the gun shot. I pressed my hands down firmly on his leg, sitting on my knees, trying to put as much of my body weight on the wound as possible. Rick stood up in the background when there was another crack of a gunshot. I flinched and watched Rick fall to the ground again, eyes open, expression blank. Shane shouted and reached out for him. Falling to his side with him. "We need two ambulances at the scene, we have two officers down! Get 'em out here now!" he yelled into his radio.

"I gotcha, tough guy," I told him, trying to keep him from seeing how truly terrified I was. I pushed down harder on his wound with my hands. They were met with a rich, warm ooze of his blood. I swallowed and took a deep breath in. He was crying, eyes glued shut in pain. "There's an ambulance on the way."

"Jen, it just hurts so bad!" he cried again, never releasing his hands from his leg.

"I know, _I know_ , it's all going to be okay. Just hold a little longer for me." My ears perked up as I heard the sound of the sirens in the distance. "I can hear it, it's really close. Just hold on." He continued to cry and as I took a second to look over at Shane and Rick. Rick was unconscious, blood coming from his side, Shane's hand was pressed firmly to it. Shane was muttering things to him, trying to keep Rick calm. His eyes were closed now, still no expression on his face.

The EMT's got out and helped us put Rick and Casey onto gurneys, I barely remembered what was said. I didn't remember getting into our patrol car. I watched Shane slowly climb into his. I drove ahead of Shane, trying to keep my eyes on him in the rear view mirror. He was wide-eyed, hands both firmly on the steering wheel. I hadn't processed what had happened to Casey quite yet. It was still working down on me. Finally, noticing that I hadn't been watching the road, I pulled over and parked the car on the side of the road. My stomach had started lurching again and when I looked down at my hands, I saw Casey's blood, dried and caked onto the backs of my hands. The EMT's had given me some sort of cloth and water but it didn't work very well. Pulling the car into park I climbed out of the car, running to a line of trees. I hunched down on all fours and felt everything come up. My eyes were glued shut while I just let it work its way out. I had no idea how long I was down there like that, but I stayed in that position as I dry heaved. A hand was on my back and I heard someone talking, but I couldn't focus.

_I could have lost my best friend today._

The reality finally hit me and I was crying. I wiped my mouth off on the back of my arm sat backwards on the grass, looking down at my blood stained hands. Casey got shot. Casey could have died. I choked on another ragged breath and curled my fists around the grass. This was not how our job was supposed to go. Neither one of use was supposed to get hurt.

"Shh, don't look at that," spoke the voice again. Through my tears, I saw Shane. He sat down in the grass next to me and was working a wet cloth on my hands, rubbing them hard and fast. No words came to mind as he did this. I just watched silently, recalling the way Casey was crying. He needed me and here I was, losing myself on the side of the road. Some best friend I was. "Come on, ya gotta be strong now. He's okay, he's on his way to the hospital." He steadied both of my hands in his and squeezed. "You're gonna be fine, alright? Jus' fine."

"I- I- " swallowing, I shook my head, sniffing through my now clogged nose. "I don't think I can go in there."

"Nah, c'mon you're gonna go there with me, okay?"

"I can't," I told him with a sob. "Being in a hospital - that will destroy me. I haven't been in a hospital for so long. But I know he needs me."

"An' that's why you're gonna go in there."

"To make an even bigger mess of myself?"

"If that's what you're gonna do, that's what you're gonna do, but your partner needs you."

"Shane, I haven't been in a hospital since that day."

"It's gonna be alright." He helped me stand and walked me back to his squad car. I got in and sat down, watching him as he closed up my squad car and locked it.

"Someone has to tell Megan..." I spoke, turning to look at him. He sat down with a huff.

"Yeah an' someone's gotta tell Lori," he replied, sniffing as he started the car. I hadn't thought about that. I took a second to look at Shane. How many times before did he have to tell Lori when Rick was hurt? I'm sure none of them could equal the pain this would bring. We drove to the bar first. Megan had been picking up extra shifts for their trip. They probably wouldn't even take that trip now. Shane parked the car and looked at me. "Are you gonna be okay?"

"I don't know," I answered. "What do I even say to this? What words will make this okay?"

"First of all, ain't no words gonna make it okay. You gotta find somethin' to say all on your own. Ain't no nice way of tellin' someone that their loved one got shot." He reached over and squeezed my hand. "You got this." I looked over at him and shrugged against the seat, focusing on how warm his hand was in mine. After a second, I remembered that Megan was in there totally unaware of everything. To her, Casey was fine, just out at work with me. I was his partner, I was there to protect him and I failed. I owed it to her and to him to spread the news. Opening the door, I stepped out, not feeling the heat or the sun as I walked into the bar. All eyes moved to me, I never came in in uniform. Especially not one that was covered in blood. Megan's eyes met mine. Her mouth fell open and she covered it. She shook her head as I walked up to the bar, trying to keep my eyes on the floor.

"Megan - " I spoke, pausing to look at her. She was already crying, wiping her eyes to keep her mascara from falling. "There was an accident today. Casey was shot and he's on his way to the hospital."

"Is it bad?" she muttered.

"He got shot in the leg. He was in quite a bit of pain before the ambulance got there. Shane's in the car, we're going to take you to the hospital to see him." The other bartender working at the bar embraced her in a hug. A few of the men sitting at the bar that heard me gave her their condolences as we made our way for the front door. We got into the car without another word. I waited for Shane to stop and pick up Lori on our way there, but he didn't, he continued to drive towards the hospital. I turned to look at him and before I could even speak he answered my unspoken question.

"I'll go back out an' get her. It'll take awhile, she's gonna be a wreck."

"Do you want me to go with you?"

"Nah, you an' Megan need ta get inside with Casey. I'll be there shortly." I nodded, focusing on the small buildings passing us as we headed to the outskirts of town where the hospital sat. I listened to Megan sniffle in the back seat. I felt like a complete asshole. For the rest of the car ride I had zoned out. I knew what was coming for me at the hospital. A trigger. They seemed to be getting less in number over the last year, but having the thought of being in a place I had avoided since those days... It haunted me. He pulled the car to the front entrance, he put the car in park and let Megan out of the backseat.

"I'll be back with Lori an' Carl in about thirty minutes, tell Rick I'm bringin' them up here," Shane spoke, waving us towards the front doors. I stood with my arms over my chest. When I looked down to my feet, I could see the dried blood stains on my pants and uniform shirt. Without even comprehending my actions, I pulled the light brown shirt off and tossed it in the nearest trash can, pulling my white undershirt out from the waistband of my pants. Megan walked ahead and turned when she noticed I wasn't coming.

"You go on ahead, I just need a minute," I told her, feeling a tightness grip my chest. My eyes locked in on the short four story building that made up the hospital. Pulling my hands to my head, I stood in that position slowly exhaling. That afternoon when I woke up in the hospital was the hardest time of my life. There was no hiding the abuse anymore. It was hard to lie to people about what had happened at home when you've take a damn bat to the face. It was hard to look at place that you considered to be your wake up call as anything but intimidating.

"Jen, get up here an' go inside with me," she ordered, holding out her arm.

"No, you go on, I'll meet you inside." She rolled her eyes and stomped over to my side, wrapping her arm around mine.

"Casey told me all about your hospital fear. You're gonna be fine. I'm right here. _Think about Casey_ ," she told me, giving me a squeeze. "He needs us both in there, an' I'm not goin' inside without you." My face grew serious and I turned to look at her. Her lips grew into a small smirk.

"You're not very nice," I muttered, giving her a squeeze back.

"I promise you'll thank me later." I knew in this moment Casey would have been proud of her. With a sigh, I gestured with my hand towards the hospital.

"Let's go." I didn't dare look at the doors as we entered, I kept my face on the ground, keeping my breathing even. I could smell it and hear it. My breathing jumped and I definitely felt like I was a walking contradiction. A police officer, made to protect and serve, afraid of a goddamn hospital. Casey was the only reason I walking into that place. We stopped at the front desk. I tried focusing my breathing, trying to keep the breaths even and stable, but the noises around me, it was just too much. Megan tried speaking with the receptionist, but it was like neither could understand what the other was saying, they both just kept asking each other questions. The annoyance from that on top of anger I was feeling just wasn't sitting well at all.

"For Christ's sake, we just want to know where Casey Brown is! He's an officer! He was brought here with a gunshot wound about thirty minutes ago!" I shouted, unable to control my outburst. Megan muttered something but I couldn't hear exactly what. The receptionist gasped.

"Ma'am, please keep your voice down!" she scoffed. " _This is a hospital!_ "

"And this is the information desk, am I right?" I shouted, raising my head up to finally look at her. She gasped for a second time.

"I'm calling security!"

"No need!" I barked, slamming my badge down on the counter. "Now where is Casey Brown!?" She looked between Megan and I. Megan squeezed my arm again when I opened my mouth. She typed something into her computer and adjusted her glasses on her nose.

"He's in the operating room. If you'll have a seat in one of the waiting rooms down the hall, someone will be with you shortly." I could tell she wasn't happy with me. She certainly didn't approve of the way I speaking to her, but I could have given two fucks less. I walked down the hall with Megan and found a small alcove that I assuming was the waiting room area she was talking about. Waiting Rooms. With the ugly ass greens and blues that are meant to be calming and too overwhelming when all you feel like doing is just curling up into a ball and crying. The chairs are uncomfortable and someone is always watching the fucking news. Just sitting there watching the news. They won't let you change the channel. There's at least one person gabbing on their cellphone. Annoying. They should call it the Annoyance Room. It's a lot more fitting.

It was about four hours of waiting, at some point in that four hours, Shane had arrived with Lori and Carl. I mostly spent my time staring at the pattern in the carpet while Megan called her parents and Casey's. I remember wanting to stand up and hug Lori, but I just couldn't. She sat in the seats facing ours with Carl, crying into his hair as she held him. I tried to make myself see her side, but I couldn't. I never truly loved someone that much to think I would marry them. I had no idea what that love felt like, to wake up every day next to the person you would spend the rest of your life with. Shane sat on the end of the rows of chairs, seated near the hallway to watch as people walked by. I noticed that any time someone with a white coat on would approach, he would sit up higher in his seat, like he was readying himself for something bad. I had to fight the urge to hug him too. I knew doing so would do nothing but focus attention on the both of us. I felt like an ass. This was a time of grieving for all of us and I was worried about embarrassing myself with a display of grief. More police officers and some Linden County ones had shown up too in that four hours. Allen being in the mix. He desperately tried to make eye contact with me from across the waiting room but I just couldn't.

The surgeons finally came out and announced that both men were doing okay and in recovery. Rick was sedated more than Casey. Something about his lungs and his breathing and whatever the hell else could possibly go wrong with a gunshot like his were listed off. Casey's femur was shattered, in about five to six different places. They started listing off certain complications from his surgery and I just remember standing up to hear the news then very quickly sitting back down. He may never walk again, that was in the complications. Nausea reared its head in my stomach. Megan sat down beside me and pulled me into a hug. My best friend may never walk again.

"He's gonna be okay," she whispered, giving me a short kiss on the cheek.

" _For now_ ," I muttered. Shane, Lori, and Carl disappeared to go meet Rick in the recovery area.

"You wanna go see him?"

"Not right now."

"Jen..."

"Fine," I answered like a bratty little kid who was being told to clean my room. "But, I can't guarantee I won't cry."

"It's okay if you do." She grabbed my hand and led me to the elevators.

Casey never looked worse in all of the time we had known each other. I had seen him with the flu, terribly hungover, and through a bad break up. This was all way worse. Sweat was still beaded up on his forehead, his face contorted in pain. I instantly felt like I shouldn't be there, especially when he didn't open his eyes. I stepped back behind the curtain that shadowed him from the doorway, waiting for Megan to see him first. When she turned around, she grabbed my arm and yanked me behind her. "Go sit down," she ordered, pushing me into the chair beside his bed. I sat down next to him and took my hand in his. She did the same on the other side, except she kissed his cheeks before sitting down. "We're here, baby," she whispered. I squeezed his hand and laid my forehead down on his bed wishing for the entire world to just fade away.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's note: So I read through the last chapter and for whatever strange ass reason I decided that Linden County should but Lincoln County. If you saw this before I did, my 100% bad. I don't know what I was thinking! I read through this chapter about 2-3 times so if you still find errors, I apologize for that as well.**

**ACTION HAPPENS. A lot of action, most of this chapter is filled with that. If you don't like it, don't read it. Please enjoy!**

**10/29/16 - edits and story line additions**

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**CHAPTER**

**EIGHT**

 

 

 

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Shane stood in the doorway to Casey's room, looking in on Jennifer who was slumped over, her head on his bed. Megan was curled up in bed with Casey, clutching his chest. All three of them were sleeping, looking at them made him realize how tired he truly was. And how alone he was at the same time. He didn't have someone else to fall back on like she did. It hurt. It hurt knowing he was alone this time. He debated on waking her up, it was almost 4 in the morning. Carl had fallen asleep hours ago, Shane finally took Lori and Carl home after she pleaded for him to let them stay. To him the hospital was no place for a kid to sleep. Lori protested for damn near an hour, insisting that they could stay a little longer, that maybe that was all it would take and he would just wake up. Shane sniffed and placed his hand on her back, hoping it would be enough to stir her. She didn't move. He moved his hand up and down, trying to be gentle but giving it enough force to rouse her. "Jen," he whispered, inches from her ear. "C'mon, I'm gonna take ya home."

"I don't wanna go," she mumbled, twisting her head so she could face the opposite direction. Her hand clutched Casey's tighter. He sighed and continued to move his hand, not wanting to really the leave hospital either. There was nothing either one of them could do and he knew that.

"Jen, you aren't gonna sleep well hunched over a bed all night. C'mon, I'll bring ya back in the mornin'." She mumbled again, something unintelligible that sounded more like a lazy whine and looked up lazily. He fought the urge to smile and patted her back this time.

"Do I have to move?" she asked him, defeated. It was enough to make Shane laugh. A smile spread across his face unknowingly.

"A little, yes, it would help," he said with a short chuckle. He watched as she kissed her friend's hand and rubbed it. She whispered I love you to him, it was barely audible over the noises of the hospital room. A part of him ached for that to be him. Just for thinking that, he felt guilt. "It's kinda cold outside." Shane held out a jacket for her as she stretched and stood up.

"You mean there's an _actual_ temperature fluctuation in this part of the state?" Jennifer teased, taking his coat from him. He walked slowly after her, the tiredness kicking him down. He felt as if he was wading through water. He had been awake for close to twenty four hours and his body was letting him know every way it possibly could. Jennifer turned around to look at him after making it to the elevator. "You okay?" She stuffed the jacket on, pushing the button hastily as she pushed her hand through. It was obvious to her that there wasn't something completely alright with him.

"I'm jus' tired," he told her, trying to keep any signs of sleep out of his voice.

"I hear that," she yawned, stretching her arms above her head. "I'm ready for a nice long sleep." Shane nodded, afraid that if he spoke he would yawn. He wanted to be strong for her right now. She needed someone steady since Casey was in the hospital. The true reality was that he needed someone himself. Rick was in the hospital too, there was no one for him to rely on, no one for him to talk to. Lori was a mess and he could only be strong for her for so long without causing any strange looks. Lori and Rick were the last two people he wanted the town to talk about. They were already going to be the main topics of people's conversations for the next week, they didn't need to add Shane's name into the mix. He had enough attention in that regard. "How's Rick doing?" she asked. The elevator opened for them and both stepped inside.

"He's alright for now. They got him in some sort of coma at the moment ta let his body heal. I guess the bullet got his lung pretty good an' a lot of blood was in his stomach. They're jus' tryin' ta let him rest."

"Good, I'm glad he's alright."

"How's Casey?" She nodded her back and forth before biting down on her lip. She turned and made eye contact with him for a minute and shielded her eyes, feeling the shame of her commitment to Casey latch back on like a vice grip on her chest.

"He may never walk again," she replied, her voice thick with tears.

"Don't believe all that shit these doctors say." Jennifer slumped over and remembered the moments of the shoot-out, Casey stepping just in line of the bullet, unable to take a shot at the suspect. She could have stood up and dived to the side, yet she didn't. Shane sniffed and put his hand onto her back, rubbing in slow, steady circles. He knew all too well what she was feeling. He had spent the better part of the night hating himself for what had happened to Rick. Lori told him it wasn't his fault, but he could tell by the way she looked at him that she put some of the blame on him too. "What do ya think ya could'a done differently ta help him?"

"Moved. _I could have moved_."

"Nah, I don't think so. By the time you would'a moved, the suspect was already on the ground. Stop worryin' about it." He wished he could take his own advice on the situation. The elevator stopped at the first floor and the pair walked slowly out to the patrol car. Without any words between the two Jennifer took the keys from Shane and drove them to her house. She had done it subconsciously. Their drive us uncomfortably silent, neither quite knowing to say to each other. Jennifer would turn to look at him then snap her head forward. When they stopped outside of Terry's house they looked at each other while she shut the engine off. The pair was still quiet, wrapped in their own thoughts. He didn't know how to ask what she was thinking, afraid he would set her off the minute he asked.

"There's a spare bedroom upstairs. My uncle and brother have _plenty_ of clothes between the two of them, I'm sure I can find something that fits you."

"I should jus' head on home," he told her, stifling another yawn.

"You're tired, I'm tired. I'm not driving anywhere else _and_ neither are you. Get out and let's go. I promise there's not any bugs or creatures living in the house," she teased. "Besides, if I don't get some form of whiskey into my body in the next twenty minutes, I may start crying." She tossed him the keys. "So, you decide, okay?" She opened the door and climbed out of the car, feeling somewhat confident that he would follow. She knew he was tired. There was no way he was going to be able to make the drive home safely. Jennifer wanted something to calm her nerves from everything that had happened. She had faced a trigger on top Casey getting shot. Confidence was trying one over on her now. At the top of the porch, she turned to watch Shane climb out of the car and head towards the driver's side. She unknowingly frowned and Shane caught a glimpse of it. The confidence that tried its place on top crumbled quickly.

"Oh, don't give me that _puppy dog_ face, I'm jus' shuttin' the windows up," he snipped. "Didn't anybody ever teach you how to roll up windows before you go inside?"

"I didn't think it mattered much around here since it _never_ seems to rain." He rolled his eyes before stepping out of the car and walking up the porch to meet her.

"It does sometimes," he replied through a short yawn.

"When I'm not in the state?" He fake laughed and waited for her to open the door, waiting off to her side as she fumbled with the keys. Shane followed her into the small living room just inside the doorway. The house was still in bad shape on the inside, they had only had a chance to repair a few things. During the winter months they both took some time off from working on it. She was able to replace the yellowed tiles in the kitchen, but the living room was still a work in progress. They hadn't even gotten started on the upstairs part of the house. Jennifer motioned for him to sit on the couch and went to a small cabinet where their liquor was held. She poured two half glasses of whiskey before shucking Shane's jacket into the nearest chair. "You want to sit on the porch?" she questioned, handing him a glass. She hated sitting inside sometimes, it only reminded her of all the work she and Terry still had ahead of them. Shane took a small sip of the whiskey and shook his head.

"I ain't sat in somethin' this comfortable all day." She took a shy drink of her own glass before plopping down into the opposite end of the couch. With a long exhale she leaned back farther against the soft cushion. It was the ugliest couch that she had seen in quite a while but hadn't had the money saved up to buy a new one yet. It was a dark red and brown plaid with a soft fabric that was the one of the only things that made the piece of furniture worth keeping. That and the springs hadn't gone bad yet. Terry wasn't known for having many guests with the exception of Trevor and Jennifer. They argued one day for a good two or three hours about whether they would throw it out or just put a cover on it. He wasn't all about the entire redecorating process she was set on.

"What would you do if you could never walk again?" she asked meekly, staring absentmindedly at the brown leather recliner facing them. She had been thinking about it most of the time she was in Casey's room. After a lot of debating she decided she wouldn't be able to handle it. Shane thought about it for a minute, taking another drink as he looked around the room.

"I honestly don't wanna think about it. I would probably go insane," he answered with a short smirk.

"What if he blames me for what happened?"

"Nah, don't say that." He shook his head. "There ain't _no_ way he's gonna blame you for that. It wasn't anyone's fault, but that asshole who was drivin' the car." She nodded, but he could tell she didn't fully believe him. He slid over closer to her on the couch, sitting on the middle cushion. He put his drink down and turned to face her almost completely. "Casey wouldn't wanna see you this way."

"You're right," she laughed, shaking off the tears that started to form at the bottoms of her eyes. He wouldn't. He would tease her about something briefly and then feel bad and try to comfort her. He wouldn't be able stomach knowing she was the reason he was crying. "He would be mad if he saw how I was." Shane smirked when she turned to look at him. Her green eyes met his brown, each other them taking a moment to look at the other. He noted the small black circles forming under her eyes the longer and longer she was awake. His eyes caught the unkempt sides of her ponytail that were jutting out in every direction, his hand reached forward and he drew it back. She yawned and propped herself up with her elbow on the arm of the couch, only noticing how she still had a lot more work left to do on the house. She took a long drink and swallowed, trying to imagine a new dining room just across the way with new windows. His hand that was resting against the back of the couch urged him to reach out and touch her. The thought of that night in the bar swept through his mind, but it was too late, his hand made up his mind for him. Shane's hand fell onto the back of her neck. She shut her eyes out of instinct, wincing slightly at the sensation.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, pulling his hand back. Without a word she reached out, grabbed his hand and placed it back where it was. He smirked and looked down in his lap, not focusing on anything of importance, rubbing his thumb across the glass in his free hand. She was flooding his mind. It only took a couple of minutes of him slowly massaging her neck that she relaxed against him, allowing him to touch her with feeling on the edge about it. "Do ya ever think about that night at the bar?" he asked quietly. Jennifer froze, why and what would convince him to talk about something like that? Had she made it that obvious that she did? She bit down on the inside of her lip and drank the rest of her glass in a quick shot.

"Yes," she answered curtly.

"I wasn't tryin' ta hurt you. I jus' - I don't know..." he took his hand off her neck and rubbed his hands down his face, not wanting to scare her off. The options weighed themselves quickly. "I like you an' I've liked you for awhile, I jus' didn't know what I wanted at the time."

"You had a girlfriend."

"Yeah, I know, I had'a girlfriend, but I don't now. So can we talk about this?"

"I didn't know there was anything to talk about." She sat her empty glass down on the table and turned to face him. "What do you want to talk about?" she raised her shoulders and released them quickly. Pride pounced on every thought she had, especially the ones relating to that night. He gave her no time to react, he closed the gap between them quickly, his mouth aiming straight for hers. His hands held each side of her face, holding her in position. She closed her eyes on instinct, her hands wrapping themselves on the outsides of his. Her face caught some of his stubble as their lips pressed together. The kiss was like a lit match on a pile of kindling, heat spreading fast between the both them. Jennifer's hands slid up his arms, she scraped her nails down his skin as their mouths opened. They were eager to touch each other. They had both been waiting to touch each other for the longest time. It was finally happening.

He let out a sound that was a combination of growl and moan. Shane used his arms to pull her into his lap, her legs straddling his hips. Her breath hitched when she felt his tongue against hers. He pulled her tighter against him, her chest flush with his, hands wrapped around her waist. Crossing his arms behind her back, he held her there, unwilling to let her move. Jennifer used her hands and fingers to comb through his curly hair, using it to turn his head in tandem with hers, their mouths still attached. He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth and bit down lightly, making moan escape from her this time. She felt the heat at her core and between her legs. She had been reluctant to settle herself completely in his lap, but she could no longer resist. With a slow exhale she let her full weight rest against him. As he released her lip, she slid her tongue into his mouth, tasting a combination of mint and wood, which she assumed was from toothpick he had been relentlessly working his stress out on. Shane had been waiting to do this again with her, he wasn't going to let her out of it so easily this time. No longer able to contain himself, he kept one arm locked around her waist in order to free himself so he could touch her face. She flinched at first, but allowed him to touch her when he did it again. His fingers were at the right combination of rough and soft, just enough to draw chills down her spine. He traced over her jaw continuously as they kissed. Internally, it was a whirlwind for Jennifer, she could feel the anxiety ticking away in the background, but the intense feelings of what was currently happening kept it away. Her nails left his hair, drawing themselves slowly down his back. Through his t-shirt she could feel the muscles in his back and slight shudder as her nails left his skin. Shane changed positions to put himself on top of her on the couch when they both heard a throaty cough and a sharp, quick whistle.

"My, my, _well_ , I'm sure that's the _most_ action _that_ couch's seen in a while," Terry spoke, placing a joint in his mouth. Both of them froze in position, turning slowly to look at the older man. He was wearing nothing but a fuzzy dark blue bathrobe that was untied with a pair of gray cloth shorts under it. Jennifer fell back against the couch while Shane stood up and wiped his hands onto his uniform pants. He smirked shyly. Shane never thought he'd be standing in Terry's living room, being scolded for making out with his niece.

"I'm sorry, sir. We didn't mean for - " Shane started.

"Relax, kid. You're both adults. Jus' take it upstairs, that's all I ask."

"A little early for a joint, _isn't it_ , Terry?" Jennifer teased as she bounced off of the couch, brushing past him as she waited at the bottom of the stairs for Shane.

"Darlin' it ain't _never_ too early for that," he chimed back, picking up Shane's half drank whiskey from the table. "There's another rule in this house. You get a drink, you finish it. _Especially whiskey_." He handed the glass over to Shane. Shane looked between the both of them and Jennifer shrugged her shoulders.

"He's the boss," she told him before heading upstairs. He chugged the rest of the glass and handed it back to Terry, who gave him a stern nod.

"I'll jus' be down here makin' as much noise as humanly possible. I don't need ta hear all that mess." He turned towards his record player and threw on a Pink Floyd album before skirting off into the kitchen. Terry had his fair share of roommates during his time in the military and after... he knew how to drown out unwanted noises. Shane was slow to walk up the stairs, with each step he could feel the tiredness re-enter his body, the stiffness sitting in his knees. Jennifer was waiting for him at the top, a pile of clothes in her hands. She handed him over a pair of soft dark blue pajama bottoms and a white undershirt.

"The shower's over there," she told him, pointing in direction of the small bathroom between her and Terry's rooms.

"Why don't ya join me?" he whispered, wrapping his arms around her. He bit lightly on her neck, just below her earlobe. It was irresistible. She bit down on her lower lip.

"Quit being such a tease and get cleaned up," she muttered, shoving the clothes into his chest. Shane couldn't resist the urge to pout. "I'll be waiting for you in this room." She pointed out the cleaner of the rooms on the floor. "I don't think my uncle wants to find you halfway naked in his bed," she teased with a smile. He smiled and gave her a quick peck on the mouth before heading into the bathroom.

 

* * *

 

I resisted the intense urge to spy on him and see what he looked like naked. I felt like a teenager, back in the ages before I even knew what to do in these situations. Nerves sent me into frantic mode, quickly tossing any dirty clothes into the hamper and making sure I took some of my hats off my bed frame. A lot of them were my dad's old hats. I could hear the Pink Floyd album playing from downstairs, signaling that the morning downstairs would be filled with pancakes and pot. Part of me wanted to take part in it, but I refused to give into the temptation, remembering what was waiting for me in the bathroom. I wondered briefly I should take my clothes off or change, but I remembered I probably didn't smell so fresh myself. Gathering up a pair of soft blue silk pajamas that Trevor got me for Christmas, I hauled off into Terry's bathroom to take my own shower. The shower was the perfect place for me to lose myself temporarily. I scrubbed my hands for a good five minutes, still convincing myself that there may be even just a little bit of blood left. I turned the temperature up on the water higher, making the steam a thick, heavy cloud. My hands worked soap into every possible spot on my body, my subconscious had told me to do it, I still wasn't exactly sure what was about to happen between Shane and I. After showering, I towel dried my hair and placed it in a high messy bun on the top of my head before pulling the pajamas on. They felt soft and slick on my skin, something I desperately needed. The shorts on the pajamas were just short enough to be tempting. I threw the towel over the bathroom door and took a quick look at myself. All of my make up had came off in the shower. There were huge dark circles under my eyes, giving me the look of someone who had been in a fight. My skin had lost its tan over the winter. A short sigh escaped me, there was nothing I could do at the current moment to make myself more appealing. I padded back into my bathroom halfway expecting to find Shane there, but he was already done. I lathered up some of my strawberry lotion and spread it on the parts of my arms and legs that were exposed. Peering into my room, I found Shane lying on my bed, turned onto his side, playing on his phone. Quietly, I walked into the room and slipped under the sheets and comforter beside him. He yawned and put his phone down before turning onto his side to face me.

"What?" I asked, looking over at him after I took my watch off.

"I've never been to a girl's house like this before."

"What do you mean? I'm sure that's not true." He smirked and shook his head.

"I mean, I jus' ain't been in her house an' her uncle is downstairs gettin' high." The laughter came out of my mouth before I could stop it.

"Yeah, Terry is something else," I yawned, turning onto my right side to face him. I felt the heat burn into my cheeks when I met his eyes. His dark hair had almost completely dried, unlike mine which would take two days if I didn't take it out of the bun and actually blow dry it.

"Tim sent me a message, he's Rick's boss. He wants to meet us later this afternoon." I nodded, fighting back another yawn. "Probably gonna give us a new assignment with those two bein' in the hospital."

"What do you think will happen?"

"I don't really care right now," he answered with a shrug. I swallowed when I felt his hand touch my arm. It had been a long time since anyone had touched me, especially in the ways I was anticipating. He scooted closer to me in the bed and his arm went around my waist, his fingers gently stroking my back. I closed my eyes, internally reminding myself that he wasn't going to hurt me. His lips touched my forehead.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," he whispered, I could feel his breath in my hair.

"I know," I mumbled back, my hands stuffed under my pillow, eyes glued shut. He raised his hand to my jaw and I could feel him tracing it before planting a kiss there. His fingers went under my chin, raising my head just enough. His mouth was on mine. In one fluid motion he pulled my hands out from under my pillow and slid himself on top of me. The feeling of his weight on top of me in between my legs set an instant ache there. I propped my legs up on either side of his, having no idea what I should do with them. He lowered himself down on his left elbow, leaving one hand free. His mouth opened and I immediately opened mine, feeling the warmth and that familiar wood and mint taste from earlier invade my mouth. His tongue worked against mine and I could feel the heat increasing by the second in between my legs. My hands released themselves from the fists I had curled them into and I rested them on his shoulders. Our mouths separated and he kissed his way across my jaw to my neck just below my earlobe. His mouth was warm on that sensitive part, his tongue and teeth gnawing gently on that skin there. I moaned quietly, sucking in a deep breath. My hips twinged up against his at the feeling. His free hand worked the buttons of the pajama top loose while his mouth continued to work. I bit down on my lower lip hard when his skin touched me under my shirt. Shane's hand slid up my stomach, his touch was light at first, tracing small shapes. The knotting and the heat spread itself up from between my legs to the bottom of rib cage. He deepened his attack on my neck, heading for the skin where my neck and shoulder met. When his mouth made contact with that spot, I felt myself lose it, my hips forced themselves clumsily up against his. His hand moved to my hip and down my leg, pulling my legs around him. I dragged my hands down his back and yanked at his shirt.

"We don't have to," he whispered, working his shirt off. I shushed him before tossing his shirt away and pressing my lips to his. He groaned and his hips shifted into mine this time, pinning me against the mattress. I dared to look down, taking in the sight of his naked chest, noting the muscles there. His mouth worked itself down my throat and to my bare chest, he pushed my shirt open and leaned back, situating himself on his knees, using his hands to rub my chest and breasts. I pushed my hips up, craving to feel the weight of his body back on mine. Unable to control myself, I reached up and pulled him into a kiss. Wetness formed in between my legs, soaking through the thin fabric. I grinded my hips into him and he hissed, catching his breath.

"Damn," he whispered, pushing his hips down into mine. We continued on that cycle, forming a small rhythm. My hands grasped his back and I ran my fingers down it to his ass. I squeezed hard and I felt him smirk against my neck. He pulled back and hooked a finger in the elastic of my shorts, he played with it, rubbing his finger back and forth, acting as if he was going to pull them down, then he would stop. I squirmed under him and reached down to take them off myself. He stopped me and gave me a peck on the mouth. "I'll do that," he whispered. I watched his hand and groaned, shoving my head back into the pillow. I could tell he was smiling without really looking at him.

"Please," I begged, feeling his hand slide between my legs. He rubbed slowly up and down. "Please," I begged again, forcing my eyes shut.

"What'd'ya want?" he whispered, kissing my neck.

"You," I whispered back, trying to keep my breathing even as he moved his hand faster. A moan that I couldn't catch slipped out between my lips. Shane's hand caused my hips to take on a life of their own, grinding and moving in a desperate attempt to get him to move faster. "Please," I groaned. He took both of my arms with one hand and placed them above my head before settling his body back on mine. I could feel his erection this time, I hadn't been concentrating enough before to feel it. He rubbed it between my legs and I could slowly start to feel myself fade out.

 

* * *

 

Shane worked his mouth between hers and her neck relentlessly, he groaned when she strained against his hold and reached up to bite and kiss his own neck. "Jus' promise me you'll tell me to stop if ya want me to," he told her using his free hand to pinch her nipple. Jennifer took in a ragged breath through her teeth, a grimace of pleasure on her face. She desperately wanted him inside of her, at this point it didn't matter whether her subconscious would agree with her later or not, she knew she wanted him now.

"I will." With a nod he slipped his pants down just enough to free himself. When he was finished he sat back for a second, releasing her arms, and pulled her shorts off, rubbing her clit that was now free and exposed. She bit down on her lip and moaned, turning her head into the pillow. He steadied himself on top of her and she pulled his pants down the rest of the way, needing to feel him against her in every way possible. She wanted to feel every ounce of his skin. Their kiss deepened, their bodies and mouths molding together. His erection sat at her entrance, he rubbed himself against her, feeling the warmth and wetness radiating from her. Jennifer moaned into his mouth as Shane slipped up, forcing himself not to go inside of her yet. Their hips continued to grind together, their hands grasping any part of each other they could get ahold of.

"Are ya ready?" he mumbled against her lips, unable to keep his mouth away from hers.

"Yes," she groaned, digging her nails into his shoulders. Shane adjusted his hips to meet himself at her entrance again. He slipped himself inside of her slowly, overcome by the new sensation. She sucked in a breath between her teeth while he watched the changes in her face. Their pace was slow and steady, focusing only on how the other person felt, reveling in what both of them had been waiting for. His mouth returned to its assault on her neck, sucking and licking on her skin between bites. Her breathing became erratic, taking quick short breaths in between moans. Jennifer's body was on overload, finally getting the attention she had needed for months. Her hands went to his back, where she rubbed and scratched, their pace picking up from their slow rhythm. She hissed his name as that all too familiar tightness bundled itself up in her core. The knotting and anticipation was enough to drive her crazy. Her thoughts became fuzzy and distant. He groaned against her neck when he felt her clamp down on his cock. Shane kissed his way up to her mouth and kissed her deeply, resting his forehead on hers.

"Hang on 'sec," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her waist, he rolled onto his back, keeping himself inside of her. The new angle put her right on the edge. She sat straight up, all of her weight situated right on his lap. Jennifer started grinding slowly, using her hands on his stomach for support. His hands held her breasts, rubbing and squeezing them. She bit her lower lip when the tightness bundled itself up in that familiar pleasurable place. Her hips slowed only for a second, just to allow the feeling to wash over her. The release that came made her entire core shake, a steady loud moan escaped her parted lips. Shane's hands fell from her breasts to her hips, forcing himself deeper inside of her. He felt the intermittent squeezing inside of her and he spilled over the edge, filling her up completely.

 

* * *

 

I woke up, startled by the feeling like I was trapped. I felt weight behind me and a weight around my waist, a hand on my chest. Panic caused my breathing to increase for a short time, my eyes wide, searching for a way out. Then the moments before I had fallen asleep played out and I felt myself relax. He stirred behind me and kissed the back of my head. "You okay?" he mumbled, his voice heavy with sleep.

"Yeah," I whispered, twisting myself in his hold to turn and look at him. Something about my face must have given me away, because his expression changed from one of sleep to concern in a matter of seconds.

"What's wrong?"

"I just woke up and wasn't sure what had happened at first," I admitted. "I haven't really slept in the same bed with someone in long time." He nodded through a yawn. I desperately wanted to know what all of this meant. Why were we doing this? Was there a point? I knew I had wanted it. But did he? Or was I just another trophy for him to chase down? Another notch to mark off in his belt, that was me. The thoughts caused such a havoc that I could barely focus on what was happening before me. He kissed my forehead and I snapped out of the thoughts, trying to push them away the best I could. The nagging still played in the background, that horrific inside voice of mine telling me the nastiest things, bouncing between reminding me that my best friend was laid up in a hospital bed and that I didn't know what Shane's intentions were. I could feel his hands work and rub themselves down my back. If he didn't have any real intentions why would he still be here? That thought alone slowed the nagging voice down. Why would he still be here cuddling me?


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case I forgot to post this somewhere, this is also cross-posted on Fanfiction.net... here we go!

**10/29/16 - updates and edits**

* * *

 

 

 

**CHAPTER**

**NINE**

 

 

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Tim Rey's office was at City Hall, he was seen as the commissioner of the police force, but no one was really sure what his title was. He had so many hats to wear in King's County, everyone just knew it was never a good thing to be called into his office. There was an immense amount of pressure placed onto him because of this. He was seen as the keeper of the town, he was to make sure everything ran smoothly and appropriately, that the people felts safe. Jennifer and Shane sat side by side, both of them in uniform before his desk. Tim was wearing a suit, but had taken his jacket off hours ago, the air conditioning hadn't been in the books to be fixed for the second year in a row. He stood before an oscillating fan in corner, studying the reports the doctors had faxed over to him about Rick and Casey's conditions. He had been quiet since they had entered, only humming a few times as he shuffled through the pages. Jennifer sat, staring straight ahead at the pictures on the wall behind his desk, keeping herself together as Shane had instructed before they came into Tim's office. Shane knew exactly why Tim had wanted to meet, but something told him if he had shared the information with her beforehand that she would never agree to it.

"Well, this is just fuckin' perfect," he muttered. "I've got these two out of commission and my other seasoned officer is on family leave." He looked up at the two deputies, internally questioning why they would barely look at each other. He didn't have time to dance around the subject. He didn't really care, it was none of his business. The town and it's people were his business. "You two are gonna have to be partners for a while," he told them, throwing the reports down onto a small, cluttered side table. "Deputy Brown will be in rehab for at least three months following recovery from his surgery. And Rick, well, they aren't sure if and when Rick will wake up." Shane swallowed at those words, hard. He itched to reach out and hold Jennifer's hand knowing the commitment that was being placed on both of them. His instinct about the meeting had been true. It wasn't like Tim had much of a choice, they both needed partners. Tim sighed and plopped down in the plush leather chair behind his desk. "We may have to call in outside departments for assistance on patrols and calls. I just don't see how fifteen of you can safely patrol this town."

"We'll find a way, sir," Shane reassured him, sitting a little straighter in his chair. He said it because he knew that was what Rick would say. Rick would reassure Tim that everything was going to be okay. Jennifer nodded, completely unsure of what all of this meant for her and Shane. After the day they had spent together she wasn't sure she could follow through on having him as a partner without getting emotionally involved. She briefly recalled Shane's warning about not letting Tim see that anything was out of order, so with that warning in mind, she kept her face straight and mimicked anything Shane did.

"I'm trustin' you both here. Especially _you_ , Walsh. Please don't let me down," Tim pleaded. "I'll start doin' some callin' an' rearrangin' this afternoon. Please ensure that the boys get my gifts."

"Yes, sir," Jennifer replied with a nod. He waved them out of his office. Jennifer eyeballed Shane wide eyed as they walked through the doorway. He gave her the slightest shake of his head and pointed to the door leading outside. Outside, the heat felt almost cooler than the old city hall building. She stopped to talk just after stepping out onto the sidewalk. Shane shook his head at her again. Tim had the ability to sneak up on people in the worst of times and if there was one thing Tim didn't need to know it was about him and Jennifer. He didn't think he would be able to stomach having Jennifer being partners with someone else. He needed and wanted to look after her. She was finally letting him in, he wasn't going to give that up so easily.

"We'll talk in the car," he spoke, unlocking his police car that was parked along the street. She got in and waited for him, ready to turn her badge in at that very moment. Jennifer couldn't stomach the idea of being Shane's partner. Not because she disliked him, but because of what had happened to Casey the day before. How was she able to protect Shane too? There was no way she would be able to and she didn't think she could take having someone else get hurt under her protection. They were quiet for a moment after he sat down, turning towards her. He opened his mouth a few times, but nothing came out.

"What are we going to do?" she blurted out. "I can't be your partner _now_!" Her voice was hovering above yelling level, the anger crept onto her cheeks in a red rash on her neck. "How's this going to work, Shane?" His eyebrows raised and he shook his head.

"I don't know."

"You have to go back in there and tell him we can't!"

"Tim's got more on his plate to worry about then a couple cops who wanna date each other. That ain't gonna matter. This town needs us to keep it safe. There are too little of us right now." It was her turn to shake her head, her jaw clenched. Even if he did go inside and insist that Tim change his mind, there was no reason to break up someone else's partnership because they were 'involved.' She looked away from him, face still red. "Jen, we don't have a choice. With three deputies down, we have to pair up. We're the only ones with qualified experience at patrolin' around here."

"Can't we train the other guys?"

"That would take too long, by that point, Casey would be back at work."

"It's still worth a shot!"

"Yeah? An' who's gonna train them, _huh?_ _You an' me?_ We got enough work around here," he stated. He was going to have to re-do some of the schedules on top of the paperwork he and Rick hadn't finished. She folded her arms across her chest and fell back against the seat. "What'd ya want? I can't do everythin' around here!" There was already an intense pressure being placed on him to take over Rick's position, to be the leader while he was in the hospital. He wasn't fully ready for it.

"That's not what I'm saying," she barked back, rolling her eyes to look out of the window.

"What is it then?" Jennifer bit down on her lip and watched a couple walk past her, silently wishing it was her.

"What am I supposed to do if you get hurt?" she whispered. Shane's face softened from his scowl. That hadn't occurred to him. She had just watched her partner get shot in action, just as he did. He wasn't sure what he would do if something were to happen to her after the morning they had together. If it were up to him he would drive them back to his apartment and haul up there for the few days, not worrying about anything that was happening in the outside world.

"We can't think about that."

"How can I _not_ think about that?" she bit, turning to look at him. " _Think about yesterday_."

"We're gonna be alright. You gotta trust me." He yanked one of arms free, holding her hand in his. He rubbed the back of it with his thumb before kissing it. "I won't let anythin' in this world happen to you."

"It's not me I'm worried about." The memory of watching their partners replayed itself, this time replacing both of the men with Shane. It was too soon for her to think about that. The thought alone made her cringe. She pushed the thoughts out as quickly as they came, trying to keep herself together.

"That's why you're here," Shane whispered, kissing her hand again. "I wouldn't want anyone else in the department as my partner, Jen. I trust you." She didn't know if she could trust herself. She had known Casey a lot longer than she had known Shane and still let him get shot. "I promise, ain't nothin' gonna happen to me."

 

* * *

 

 

Casey was still in the hospital bed when Shane and Jennifer arrived. He was sitting up, fiddling with the remote on the side of his bed to change the channel. They ran into Megan downstairs in the cafeteria, she had grown tired and bored with watching reruns of Cops with him. A wide smile grew on Jennifer's face as she entered the room, quickly making her way over to hug her friend. Seeing him was what she needed to get her head straight. He would listen. He would know what to do. "Jen!" Casey shouted, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. She buried her face against his hospital gown, biting down on her lower lip to keep the tears at bay. He gave her a strong, steady squeeze, closing his eyes at the comfort of having his best friend near. Jennifer wasn't sure how long they had been locked in the hug, but she finally encouraged herself to release him, backing away to kiss his cheek.

"I'm so glad you're okay," she muttered, swiping under her eyes. He smiled at her, relaxing himself against the bed as he and Shane exchanged a handshake. "I'm so sorry." Tears couldn't stop themselves from falling this time, her head bowed. She took a seat in the chair next to his bed, unable to stand for too long. " _I'm so sorry_ ," she repeated, her eyebrows threaded together.

"Hey, stop that. It's not your fault," he insisted, reaching down to grab her hands. He could only move so far before his body would strain and the pain would kick up in his leg. Shane's face fell and he rubbed Jennifer's back, the urge to pull her into a hug ripped through him. He crouched at her side, one arm wrapped around her shoulders.

"I was just so worried about you," she choked. "I was so scared that you would be mad at me."

"No, why in the hell would I be mad at you for? I'm _fine_ , Jen. The doctors haven't been in to round yet this afternoon, but they say I'm doing okay so far." His hazel eyes shifted between the two officers before him, not sensing the usual tension when they were both together, he narrowed his eyes. Something was going on between them. They were talking and Shane was actually touching her, red flags popped up everywhere. "What's going on with you two? How're things in the department?"

"Tim has asked that we partner up until you an' Rick are well enough for duty," Shane replied, twisting his neck to look at him. Casey's eyebrows raised.

"Are you okay, Jen?" Casey questioned, her tears letting up.

"I don't know if I can do this anymore," she muttered. "I don't know if I want to."

"What do you mean?" Jennifer shook herself from Shane's grasp and climbed up into the bed with Casey, careful not to disturb his leg. He welcomed her against his chest, holding her in place.

"I don't know if I want to be a police officer anymore." Shane held his head down at her confession, slowly rising back into a standing position. Maybe he should have fought Tim and told him not to make them partners. Shame clutched at his throat. Jennifer's hands grasped the thin hospital gown even tighter, burying her face into his shoulder. Her best friend shushed her, resting his head on hers, closing his eyes when he felt the wetness on his gown. He knew at this point it was best to just let her cry, no matter how much she would hate herself later. She was surprised it was this visit that caused her to break down. She had plenty of chances to cry within the last 24 hours. But the combination of seeing Casey and realizing that police work may not be for her, it was the last stretch. Why had she worked so hard to get this position when it appeared to come with nothing but pain? It wasn't like they hadn't talked about what it was like to lose a partner in the academy, because they had. They had lectures and a special class to attend that talked all about how to deal with grief whether it was a partner or case. There was a damn psych eval to even be considered for a position for this very reason.

"What if I worked this hard for no reason? Wh-what if this is all that's meant for me?" she blubbered, not daring to move herself from his shoulder. Hearing the breaks in her voice had sent Shane to dark place himself. He recalled those nights with Rick when they show up at the scene of a wreck, Shane could still picture the mangled bodies and the smell. A lot of alcohol had been used to try and undo the damage by the things he had seen. He spent a lot of time debating if this was something he wanted to keep doing, knowing in his mind that it would never get better, that something like this could be waiting for him at any given moment. He closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his head, he knew that Rick would make Jennifer take time off, at least for a week, but there wasn't enough time or staff for that. He felt guilty. If Rick hadn't been shot a lot of things would be different. He moved his hand to his jaw and rubbed before looking up. Shane debated between staying in the room and going to check on Rick, unsure if she would want him to see her like that. He hadn't seen her cry since that domestic call.

"I'm gonna – " Shane started, using his thumb to point towards the door. Guilt rode on his shoulders as he left, unable to witness her undoing any longer. Casey nodded. The friends sat in that position for a long time. Jennifer's tears had finally stopped, and she had released Casey's hospital gown. She was laying against his chest still, listening to the slow steady beat of his heart.

"Talk," he told her. "Tell me what's going on."

"I don't think I can be Shane's partner," she admitted.

"Look I know Shane's a piece of shit in your eyes, and I can see why – "

"I slept with Shane this morning," she blurted out, feeling the redness spread across her cheeks. A smile crept onto Casey's lips. He cleared his throat to keep himself from laughing. So this was the reason for all the unusual touching and talking between them.

"Well, that's interesting…" he spoke when he could feel the laugh disengage itself from his throat.

"I can literally hear you smiling," she quipped, bitterness heavy on her words. With a sigh she pushed herself up from his bed and took back to the chair she had sat in before. Casey cleared his throat knowing this was not the time or the place to bring up what had happened between her and Shane. Talking about it would only anger her at this point and that was not what he wanted to do.

"So talk to me. Why are you worried you shouldn't be a cop? It's a little late to feel like that now."

"You got shot yesterday? _Remember?_ I _watched_ you get shot."

"I remember that _quite_ well! And I'm fine, by the way!" She shook her head and looked out of the window.

"How am I supposed to keep Shane safe when I couldn't do that for you? I can't sit around and watch the people I care about get shot."

"You act like this happens every day, Jen." She chewed on the inside of her lip before turning to look at Casey. "Don't let one accident completely ruin you. You became a cop for a lot more reasons than you have to quit. I think the Jennifer I met at the Academy would be pretty ashamed at the Jennifer I'm seeing right now, especially when she worked this hard to get here." He stopped to see if she would speak, but she didn't. She knew what he was saying was making sense. The older her would definitely be pissed. "Do you still remember why you decided to do this?"

"Of course I do."

"Then tell me."

"To protect people, to keep people safe. To be that person that people depend on when things are falling apart. To hopefully protect someone from having the same shit done to me." Her hand ghosted over the scar on her scalp before resting her elbow on the arm rest.

"Things _are_ falling apart, Jen. And this city is depending on you to keep it safe right now." They sat quietly for a moment, each one of them preoccupied with their thoughts.

"You're right," she told him after a moment. He smiled and held his hand out to her. She returned the smile before putting her hand in his.

"So you and Shane…" he started.

"Yeah." Casey smiled. "Quit making that face at me."

"You want to talk about it?"

"What do you think?" He laughed this time and squeezed her hand before letting it go.

 

* * *

 

 

After checking up on Rick, Jennifer and Shane made their way back out to the cruiser, ready to start their shift. They were quiet for a time, neither one of them able to talk about what had happened in Casey's room. Jennifer preferred to pretend like she hadn't cried, it just made it a lot easier to deal with. She wasn't comfortable enough to talk about it with Shane either. He stole a few glances at her while he drove them to the police station. Her eyes were still red and puffy and he hated it. He hated seeing her that way. "We've got on foot patrol in town tonight," he told her, hoping she would respond. "Some little concert was goin' on in the park." Jennifer nodded, stepping out of the car to head inside. He sat in the car long after she left, watching the door she walked through. He knew nothing he said was going to make her okay. It was going to take time, but it drove him insane. Shane didn't waste time on his past girlfriends. This was usually about the time he would move onto the next one. He didn't want to do that this time. He wasn't ready to just up and move on yet. He climbed out of the car with a heavy sigh, willing himself into the precinct. She was in the ammunition locker, grabbing a can of mace when he came in.

"I'm not good at talking about all this," she spoke when she heard him enter. "I'll probably never really be able to tell you everything, because I have too much damn pride for that. But I will tell you I'm scared."

"It's okay to be scared. An' as far as all that talkin' shit is – you'll tell me when you're ready." He watched as she turned to look at him, flashing him a small smile. He felt a spark of pride light up his chest. That little smile was the only reassurance he needed. He didn't need anything else. Shane stalked into the locker behind her, grabbing a few rounds of ammunition.

Outside, the sun had just set. The only sound that could be heard was the soft, quiet music coming from the park and the jingling of their utility belts. They passed a few people on the sidewalk who would nod or smile in their direction. Shane went out of his way to speak to some, trying to keep his appearances up as Tim had asked him to. Some of the people would mumble under their breaths as they passed, talking about how the homewrecker was out on the streets the most notorious playboy in town. It certainly had the gossip mill spinning out of control. Most of the shops had closed early with the exception of the ones closest to the park due to the concert. Their on foot patrol was for show, they were just showing that the police force was still active in the community even with their dwindling numbers. Tim thought it would show the people that there was nothing to fear. They turned the corner and headed for the park, neither one of them spoke. There was a loud yell from nearby and Jennifer jumped, immediately putting her hand over her holster. Fear ripped through her body, her heart beating in her chest so loudly she was surprised Shane couldn't hear it. "What the fuck was that?" Shane asked out loud, turning around to face the opposite direction.

"Was it from the concert?" she asked, nodding in the direction of the park. Her hand lingered on her holster a little longer.

"No, it was too close." The yell sounded again from down the street where they had walked away from just a few minutes ago. "This way," Shane told her, motioning for her to follow. The officers took off in a steady jog, Shane using his flashlight to glance down the few alleyways. The streetlights hadn't came on just quite yet and with the sun as low as it was, it was hard to see between the buildings. Shane stopped in his tracks upon the scene before him: a woman standing on a dumpster with what appeared to be an incredibly ill man growling at her, reaching out to grab her.

"Hey!" Jennifer yelled, withdrawing her gun as Shane held the flashlight steady. "Turn to me slowly and put your hands up!" The man continued on his business, acting as if he didn't hear one word she had spoken. "I gave you an order, sir!" she yelled again, taking the safety off of her gun.

"Put your fuckin' hands up!" Shane shouted, his voice significantly louder than his partner's. He held his gun ready in his hand, safety off, ready to shoot. Shane's voice made the man turn. Jennifer could feel the cold sting of fear rush through her as she took in his appearance. Fresh red blood was leaking from his mouth, his eyes were wide. His mouth barely moved, but the growling that was coming from him made her uneasy. She swallowed hard, looking at his bloodied plaid shirt, his jeans torn and ragged. "I said put your fuckin' hands up!" Shane repeated, a little louder. The man started to shuffle in their direction, hands out, reaching for them.

"I'm taking the shot," she told him calmly, firing a bullet directly into the man's chest. She watched in horror as the man's torso jerked backwards for a second as the bullet made contact, but he continued to inch his way towards them. "I don't understand," she muttered, only using her eyes to look at her new partner. Shane couldn't take his eyes off of the man before them. He fired off two rounds, one hitting the other side of his chest and his right leg. His leg crumpled beneath him, but the same rhythmic growling continued. The bloodied man's hands sprawled before him and he half dragged, half crawled his way towards them. Fear struck in Shane this time. He swallowed hard and spread his legs, taking a wider stance, balancing himself.

"Last chance! Put your hands up!" Shane yelled, aiming the gun for the man's head. The man continued and Shane let out a slow, steady sigh. He fired off a third round, but this time, he shot the man in the head. The growling ceased. Jennifer stared wide eyed at the corpse, her gun still raised. Shane walked towards it and Jennifer's voice cracked through the silence.

"Shane, please don't," she whispered, unable to take her eyes off of the man. The woman on the dumpster was crumpled up, her arms wrapped around her knees, sobbing.

"It's alright," Shane told her. "He's dead." Jennifer walked over to him, unable to bring her eyes away from the dark red blood rushing from the man's head. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before. She studied him as close as she could from afar, unable to bring herself closer out of fear. "Ma'am," he spoke, directing his attention to the woman on the dumpster. "Did you know this man?" She shook her head, not daring to look up.

"He jus-jus' s-s-started chasin' me from down the street. He wouldn't leave me alone," she sobbed into her arms.

"Got any enemies?"

"No! I was jus' visitin' my grandma in town an' then he came runnin' at me. I never seen this man in my life!"

"C'mon, lemme get'cha down. We need to get a statement from you," he instructed, stepping over to help her off of the dumpster. After deciding he was in fact dead, Jennifer crouched down near the body, hesitating before holstering her gun. She examined what she could without disturbing anything, not wanting to contaminate any evidence. She squinted, glancing over the dirty plaid shirt that looked like it hadn't washed in weeks. His jeans were in the same condition, riddled with dirt, frayed in every place imaginable, stained with blood. Shane was speaking with the woman about a block away when he shouted for her to call in the coroner. That was a call she hadn't had to make yet. Studying her radio she fumbled for a second before calling the dispatcher to send out the coroner. The steady quiet tone of the music continued to float around, meaning that the gun shots hadn't disrupted anything. She was grateful for that. It was one less thing to explain to the public. There was already enough media going on surrounding the police department. There were hordes of news casters outside of the hospital when they went to visit Casey. Before too long the red lights of an ambulance caught her eye. She stood up from her crouching position as it drew closer. Shane waved the ambulance down, after a short assessment, the woman had been scratched on the leg in the process of getting onto the dumpster and it was already starting to get a greenish, black edge. After sending the woman off to be evaluated at the hospital, they took to waiting for the coroner. Jennifer rested against the brick wall of the building closest to the body. "Concert's going to be ending soon," she stated, glancing down the street.

"I know," Shane replied, rubbing the back of his head. "I don'know what to do. We gotta wait for the coroner. But this'll definitely get people talkin'."

"Do you think he was on something?" she asked, stepping away from the wall to take the space beside him.

"I don't know," he answered, raising his eyes to look at hers. "Never seen anythin' like this before in my life."

"We learned in school that there are some drugs who can make people feel invincible or decreased pain."

"Nah, darlin', that ain't the kinda stuff we get around here."

"Are you sure?" she asked, cautiously, raising her eyebrow at him. "You said you've never seen it."

 

* * *

 

The coroner had finally shown up and took the body away, shocked to hear that the man had taken three shots before having to be fatally wounded. He couldn't find any identifying parts on him, no wallet, no ID. It was all so strange. The coroner thought it might have been drugs too, but he reassured us he would do a complete tox-screen to be sure. Shane and I spent the rest of the night directing traffic out of town and retracing the steps of the woman who was attacked. We must have walked that damn route about twenty times, trying to find any clues as to why he was chasing after her. It was even harder to come up with answers when we didn't even know who the man was. Shane still wasn't convinced that it was drug related by the end of our shift, even though we sat in the park most of the night talking about what we had learned about certain drugs. I had an entire class dedicated to it. I had exam after exam about it. It was my job to be able to identify what someone may be under the influence of on just a quick glance. My evidence was solid, but according to Shane most people in the area didn't do drugs like PCP or ecstasy. It was all mostly meth or marijuana and just because he had never seen it before made it completely wrong.

We dragged ourselves to one of the small restaurants in town around seven in the morning. We were both tired and hungry. I sat across from him, stirring my coffee in a slow, lethargic manner. The sting in my eyes made me painfully aware of how tired I was. I was too afraid to sleep though, afraid I would see the face of the man we had to take down. This moment made me regret never carrying my flask on me while patrolling. Shane sat across from me in the same daze, he watched himself stir his own coffee, never taking his eyes from it until he had sat the spoon down. "How many more night shifts do we have?" I asked, trying to keep the whininess out of my voice. I failed terribly. His mouth cocked into that smirk that I was coming to adore and hate at the same time. Why did he have to be so damn cute and irritating at the same time?

"Jus' one more tonight. Then we gotta night off an' it's back to days. Tiffany an' one of the older guys are gonna take over on nights. Tim thinks it'll help for the public to see me durin' the day. Ya know, when most people are awake." I scoffed into the coffee as I took a drink. At least I would get to stop the night shift grind. My eyes jumped to the window to watch the people walk by on the sidewalk. "Are you okay?" I shook my head, unable to make eye contact with him for a moment, afraid that he would see I was definitely not okay. I knew police work was going to be tough. I just wasn't expecting to have to kill a man this soon after all that had happened. It was a shock.

"I'm just sleepy." A yawn tore through my mouth at just the right time. He nodded in agreeance. Our food was delivered and I became even less hungry than what I already was, staring down on at the country fried skillet before me. Shane put a small amount of ketchup on his home fries and sighed through his nose.

"Don'know if that was the best choice," he admitted, quickly tossing the fries around so you couldn't see the ketchup anymore. I gave him a small smile before making myself take a bite of my food. Breakfast was over before I knew it. Neither one of us ate more than half of our food. I was offered a box for it and declined, knowing I would just throw it in the trash later. We shuffled outside and back towards the police station to pick up the police car. After settling inside the cruiser, I leaned the seat back, hoping to catch at least a ten minute nap before my short coma. He drove for about five minutes before shutting the car off. I sat up, confused, looking at a parking lot I was not familiar with.

"Where are we?" I asked through a yawn.

"Well there's no spare bedroom upstairs, but there's at least one up there," he spoke. I could feel the blush shooting across my cheeks when I realized what he was saying. He stared out of the windshield, not turning to look at me. "An' I have plenty of clothes I know you would fit in."

" _Shane Walsh_ ," I quipped. "Are you asking me to stay the night?"

"I do believe its daylight now, darlin'. But yes, will you stay the day with me?" His eyebrows were raised and that smirk was on his face. I couldn't find the will in myself to say no to that. He turned to face me for an answer and I smiled.

"You're not allowed to ask me questions if you're going to smirk like that," I teased, stepping out of the car.

"What'd'ya mean by that?" he asked, closing his door.

"You know what I mean." He shook his head, the smirk starting to unfold on his face. " _That face_!" I shouted, meeting him near the trunk of the car. "You _can't_ make that face and ask me to do something for you."

"Why's that?" The huskiness in his voice made me all too aware of how close he was. My mind showed me the highlights from yesterday and I felt a twinge in my hips. That twinge traveled its way up my spine, leaving a tingly feeling in its wake.

"You _know_ why," I whispered. He stepped forward and closed the gap between us. His head dipped down to meet mine and my eyes closed. His lips felt better than they had yesterday, there was a sweet quality to them from breakfast. He went at just the right pace, setting every nerve ending in my body on fire. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders to deepen the kiss and pushed him against the trunk of the car. I could feel the smirk against my mouth and I groaned, biting down on his lower lip. "You're bad," I growled, backing away from him. He pulled me back to him and squeezed his arms around my hips.

"C'mon, darlin', I think you need a nap," he teased through a laugh.

 

* * *

**Author's Note: I debated by adding the zombie scene in here, but I just feel like it didn't happen all at once. I don't want to seem like I'm rushing it, it'll be a couple of chapters before another reappears, but I feel like it needed to be in here for what happens to the both of them over the course of the month for this story. Thank you for all the support!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: Reminder, some codes you may need to know… 10-16: domestic, 10-20: location, 10-4: acknowledged. And in case if you all forgot (like I conveniently did), Shane's badge number is 276. This chapter was hard to write. Domestic assault triggers present. I know things get a little hairy in here, but it's hairy before the rainbows. Rainbows are coming soon. It's late and I was having a rush of ideas and really, really wanted to write them out before I went to bed, so if it's tough in some spots, I will fix it this weekend**

**10/29/16 - updates**

 

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**CHAPTER**

**TEN**

 

 

* * *

 

 

The pair trudged into his apartment slowly, Shane stood just inside the doorway to hold the door open for her, allowing her to step inside and get a full glimpse of the area. "It ain't much," he told her, turning to shut the door as she looked the small apartment consisting of nothing more than a bedroom, bathroom, small living area, kitchen with a large laminated area where a table should be. It wasn't fully furnished, only a few pieces of furniture taking up the living room, no kitchen table. She was surprised not to find a bunch of clothes hanging around or trash. It was a cliché built into her a long time ago by Trevor. Mostly because that's exactly how Trevor kept his place – messy as hell. Trevor never cleaned, Casey rarely cleaned... she figured it must be a habit most males her age carried. She was thankful to see that Shane did not follow in those footsteps. It wasn't spotless, but it wasn't trashed either. "You thirsty?" he asked, motioning towards the kitchen with his head.

"Not really," she answered with a shrug and a slight yawn. He chewed down on his lower lip and nodded. "I'm just exhausted." With a short smile Shane led her into his bedroom. It was mostly decorated in darker colors, dark blues and grays, similar to the living room area. The unmade bed was nothing but two mattresses stacked on each other, smothered in soft, light gray blankets and pillows. Jennifer undid the clip on her utility belt and placed it on the dresser facing the bed while Shane did the same. There was a comfortable silence between the both of them. Neither one of them was quite sure what to say to the other. An intense mixture of emotions was flowing around in their heads: the thought of sleeping near each other, the thought of just being near one another, the incident that happened just days ago to their partners, the crazed man from last night. They both wanted the closeness they had shared with each other the day before. Their bodies needed it. Jennifer kicked her boots off and pulled her dark brown pants off, attempting to somewhat fold them before she placed them on the floor. She started the meticulous task of undoing the buttons, this action caused Shane to stop as he tugged his white undershirt off. Noticing this, she turned and gave him a sly smile before starting up the task again. It was hard for him to hide the boyish grin on his face. She had no idea what exactly she did to him, but at the same time, he didn't know what effect he had on her as well.

"Lemme do that," he insisted, knocking her hands away.

"Buttons are a huge pain," she spoke with a pout, tugging at the leather belt still holding his pants up.

"Oh, trust me, darlin', if this wasn't your uniform, it'd already be off." He undid the last button and slid the light brown uniform shirt off of her shoulders, rubbing the newly exposed skin after it fell to the floor. She was wearing a nude colored camisole and a tight fitting sports bra. If there was an on foot chase, her breasts bouncing around was the last thing she wanted. It wasn't supposed to be sexy, it was supposed to be functional. She pulled the camisole off in one swift swipe, leaving her only in her white sports bra and matching boyshorts. He pressed his lips to hers softly. She sighed against him and took a step forward, making her body flush with his. Jennifer's hands were to quick release the clasp on the belt. With a few short flicks of her fingers Shane's pants hit the floor. He pulled the elastic from her hair, running his hands through the dark tendrils, unable to take his mouth away from hers. Shane's hands guided her to the bed, their kiss deepening. She sat on the bed and they broke apart only for him to crawl onto the mattress. He laid down on his left side, motioning for her to come to him. Jennifer obeyed with a shy smile, crawling up to meet him. She nuzzled herself against his chest, laying her head down on a combination of his arm and a pillow. He kissed the top of her forehead and laid an arm around her waist.

"You big tease," she murmured, breathing him in as her arm snaked under his and around him.

"Trust me, I won't be teasin' ya after I get some sleep," he whispered against her hair.

"You promise?"

"Of course I do, now shut those pretty little peepers of yours an' get some sleep."

"Yes, boss," she replied, tilting her head up to kiss his jaw. He smirked and pulled her even closer.

 

* * *

 

The cruiser was stuffy. I didn't know what was wrong with me. I couldn't get comfortable. Shane had gone inside to grab something to drink at the gas station, leaving me to fester in the heat. The windows being down wasn't enough. The sun was glaring and I felt like I was slowly turning into a vampire with all of the night shifts. I shifted again and rubbed a hand down my face, instantly coating it with sweat. Disgusted, I rubbed my sweaty palm down my pants and tried hard not to think about anything in general. There was too much to think about. Shane. Casey. The crazed man. Being partners with Shane. Casey. Shane. Terry's house and the stalled renovations. Rick. Shane. The crazed man. Casey. I closed my eyes and leaned back against the seat. The autopsy results still weren't final on the crazed man. I felt like that was bad. Had that illness finally struck our little town? Was Casey going to walk again? Sweat dripped off my forehead. Not knowing all of this was driving me insane. And I still don't know what was going between Shane and I. He said something about dating. _Dating?_ I didn't remember us talking about dating. Is that what we were doing? Before I had a chance to think anything more about it Shane dropped into the driver's seat, tossing a cold bottle of Coke into my lap. A muttered a thank you and took a generous swig from it. It was welcomed after the insane heat of the sun. After turning the cruiser back on, I flipped the air conditioning back up to its highest level and retreated back to my inner turmoil. I prayed the sun would set faster to give some relief to the ungodly humidity. He glanced over at me before pulling us back out onto the road. We were on patrol tonight and taking calls. No leisurely walks around town for us. I adjusted my badge and reached over to fix Shane's. He smiled and raised his eyebrows.

"What did you mean when you talked about us dating? When we were leaving Tim's office you said something about it." For the first time in my damn near entire year of knowing Shane, he blushed. A pinkish hue splattered across his cheeks.

"I - uh - I was jus' sayin' that if we wanted to date, that Tim had bigger things goin' on."

"If we _wanted_ to date," I clarified, enjoying my few moments of actually getting Shane to blush.

"Yep."

"Right," I said through a chuckle, shifting back to my side of the car.

"What did ya think I meant?" he asked, pulling us to a small parking lot near the church that Hansen and I used to station ourselves at. It was nice and quiet out there, no houses, no people. After dark the area near the church was a twilight zone. After you cut the engine and rolled the windows down, you couldn't hear anything but the bugs out in the field.

"I didn't know what you meant, that's why I asked." He nodded his head and turned the engine off. I hastily rolled the window down. The sun had finally set, leaving a scene of orange and red hues across the sky.

"Well, what would ya think if I asked?"

"Asked me what?" The tone came out a little harsher than I had expected, but I sweating and it was hot and all I wanted to do was drown myself in a bottle of whiskey or beer or some kind of alcohol to try and help situate myself with what was really going on.

"If I asked ya to date me..." he trailed off and I bit down on the inside of my cheek. I hadn't dated anyone since him. Sure, I had some little hook-ups here and there and a part of me was ready for that commitment, but was I really? Was I _really_ ready? What if I didn't like the way he cooked meals or I didn't like the way he folded towels? What if he _stopped_ being nice? Like _**he**_ did? I was so tired of asking myself questions. I felt like that's all I had done since Casey had been shot, just a constant, _endless_ stream of questions. Shane rubbed the back of his head and turned fully in the seat to face me. "Hell, I'm tired of playin' this game. I really am," he admitted, shaking his head. "I wanna date you." My eyebrows rose in shock. "I do. An' I've wanted to. An' now I'm gonna ask you. Will you go on a date with me, Jen?"

I was not expecting this at all. I could feel pins and needles prickling my skin. I'm not that same woman I was. She is not who I am. If he tries to hit me, I'll punch back. If he gets mean, I'll leave him. I won't let him demean me. I won't let him tell me what to eat or wear _or do_. I won't. I swallowed. But what if I did let him? What if this was all some huge trap? A part of me knew that wasn't true, I knew it wasn't. Shane had put up with me. He let me yell at him. He stayed at my house. He helped me when I really needed someone and made me suck it up when I needed to. Shane was not like him. They had absolutely nothing common aside from liking country music. That nagging part of my body started in again. I tried to smother it out, but I was unsuccessful. He must have seen it because his face became very soft and he looked down at his hands, searching for what I assumed was a toothpick. What would Casey say if he heard this? I already knew what he would say. He was the one who had told me I would never know what would come of this unless I tried. Ugh. Casey and his persistence.

"Jen, I don't want to rush ya, ya know? I ain't gonna get mad if ya say no."

"I don't think I'm ready," the words fell out of my mouth before I could figure out a lie. There was no use in lying anymore. I didn't want to lie, especially not to him. Shane nodded and turned back to face forward. "I'm not saying no, but I'm not saying yes?" The statement came out as more of a question. More uncertainty on my part, more questions to ask myself later. Which I was really fucking thrilled about. He nodded again, shoving the small piece of wood into his mouth. "I just don't want to fall in to the same trap. I fell so hard, I had no idea what I was doing. I don't want to make that same mistake."

"What makes you think you're gonna make the same mistake?" His eyebrows threaded together briefly, before his face relaxed and scrunched up again. "You think I'm gonna hurt you?" he asked, turning to look at me, only moving his eyes. There was the most brief smile on his face before he caught his bottom lip between his teeth. I didn't think he was going to hurt me. That wasn't it at all. I just couldn't too sure. He played the role of great boyfriend there for a long time before striking like a damn cobra in the grass. It happened so quickly, I let my mind get away from me and I didn't even realize it. I refused to let it happen again but we all mistakes. "S'that it? That's it, isn't it?"

"I just can't be too sure who I can trust is all. That's all I'm saying. I would just like to get to know you better."

"So you _don't_ trust me."

"You're reading too far into what I'm saying."

"Nah, I'm not. It's plain an' simple." I tugged gently on my hair, wanting to retrace all of the steps we made. I should have brought it up first. I should have said something about the dating thing when he said something. This was partially my fault. But I wasn't willing to take a step backwards just yet. There was no coming out of this.

"Then you _obviously_ ignored the second half where I said I wanted to get to know you better first."

"I heard it. I heard whatcha said."

"Okay Shane," I exhaled, leaning back against the seat. He was quiet for a long time. If I was still I could hear the small thud of him chewing away on his toothpick… it was soothing to hear over the gentle chirping outside in the field. The sun's light had finally lapsed completely out of the sky. I spent a short minute trying to identify the constellations I knew before delving around the inside of my mind, where questions continued to spin relentlessly. Biting down on the inside of my cheek I stole a glance at Shane, who had resorted to playing on his phone. "Shane…" my voice croaked and it took him longer than usual to look up. "Can you not be mad at me for this? I have a lot going on right now." It was hard enough to admit this. It felt about the same as swallowing a handful of razors.

"So which is it? Your friend in the hospital or that you don't trust me?" I bit down harder on the same part in my cheek, willing the skin to break. Anything would feel better than hearing this. I was finally opening up and this was what I was getting. If this was going to happen every time I opened up what was the fucking point? "I can handle the truth, ya ain't gotta go around makin' up excuses about the obvious ta get out of it."

"You just don't understand."

"No, I gotcha, I should'a known better. Our first conversation was a lie, essentially. Why should this be any different?" I tried to breathe in and out slowly. The confrontation building made me aware of everything uncomfortable, right down to the wrinkle at the bottom of my sock. My eyes darted to the darkened field beside us. What would happen if I just left this car? What would happen if I just ran out of town? Just kept running until there was no more. No more Casey. No more Shane. No Trevor. No vicious ex-boyfriends. No beatings. No police. Everyone was just calm. Trustworthy. Happy.

"You can be a real ass, do you know that?" I spat, my ideal sanctuary drifting out of sight.

"Oh, I'm sorry, you're sittin' here tellin' me that you don't trust me. Then, when I call you out on it, you blame it on Casey. I had someone-" I could feel the tension building up in my chest. "-get shot too, you know? An' I'm not blamin' shit on that."

"I haven't dated anyone!" I barked, slamming my hands onto my lap. "I haven't dated anyone since college!" I screamed out. It ripped its way out of my throat all at once, leaving it raw.

"You jus' push all my buttons an' get me ready an' then when I jump in, you just back off. Ya jus' tease. You called me a tease this mornin', well, I'm sorry, darlin' but he only tease here, is you." Before I could respond the radio cracked to life.

"276, we have a 10-16 in action. 10-20 is being forwarded to your computer. Do you copy?" the dispatcher spoke. My eyes grew wide. Not another one. Not this soon. I swallowed hard.

"10-4," Shane replied, holding the button down on his radio. He made eye contact and blinked before turning the engine over. We rode to the house in silence. It was hard to make out much of the scenery of King's County at night. The land seemed to just all flow together, no fences or houses. Only trees and land. It was soothing. I started quoting my mantra in my head, hoping for some relief, but I was continuously dragged back to _his face_. No matter how many times I said it. Even looking out of the window, staring at nothing, I could see _his face_. What would he say if he had heard Shane ask me to date him? I felt my stomach lurch at that thought. Why would I even care what he would say? _He was no longer here. He was gone_. Shane drove the car straight into the yard, stopping just short of the doorway. I willed myself out of the seat as Shane popped out, his gun instantly out of its holster when his feet touched the grass. I could hear the screaming as I stepped out, screaming in between sobs. Hearing that made me all too aware of everything. I had to save her. I had to stop that god awful screaming. Memories of fists to my stomach urged me to take action. The worse about the beatings was that I never knew when they were going to stop. I never knew if anyone was going to help me. No one usually did. I prayed though. I prayed long and hard for relief that never came. I stalked up to the door steadied myself, ready to kick the door down. Too bad the fucker inside didn't know I was here now. And that shit was going to stop. Shane stopped me from barreling inside, holding me by the shoulders at the front door. "Jen, are you alright?" he asked, locking me into place. I gave him a short nod, but he held his position. "Ya look like you're gonna throw up."

"I'm okay," I muttered, tossing a nervous glance back to the front door after a large crash.

"We need a plan, okay? We can't jus' go in there guns all ready to go, we have to - " There was another crash and I ripped myself out of his grip. I had a feeling I can only describe as butterflies as I kicked the door in. Shane yelled my name, but it was a whisper in comparison to the roaring I felt inside my own head. A woman was screaming profusely, sobbing, yelling out for someone to help her. Her yelling only magnified the feeling of rage. I raced around the house, trying to pinpoint their location before finding them in the kitchen. He was throwing things at her, tossing whatever was in arms reach at the woman who was cowering in the corner, arms out, trying to shield her face. Without even speaking, I barreled into him, tackling him to the floor. He grunted and shouted when my body collided with his. My shoulder make contact with his chest and we fell to the tiled floor in a tangled mess. I maneuvered myself on top of his chest and he reached up to slap me.

"What'tha fuck ya think you're doin' ya little bitch!" he shouted, hiking his right hand up. It landed on my left cheek and I saw red. My skin puckered at the contact but I didn't balk. I balled up my fists and the mantra slipped through my fingers like sand. I couldn't feel the sting as it reddened. This was the exact reason I couldn't move on. I so desperately wanted to. I wanted to move on. I was ready to date Shane. Hell, before college I would have said yes without a second thought. _He_ stopped me. And here _he_ was. Right before me, trapped right between my legs.

"You better watch your fucking mouth!" I spat, using my right hand to punch him in the throat. I wasn't scared, I was pissed. I was ready for this. I was ready for him this time. He gasped for air and I swung again, this time, hitting him in the left eye. I continued my assault. Every name I had ever been called rolled through my inner monologue like a goddamn roll call. With every punch I saw him, bleeding and smiling at me. _My ex-boyfriend_. I didn't see the poor Georgia man who was beating his wife... no, I saw _him_. What if I was like this forever? This damaged woman for the rest of my life? Unable to fix herself because she was too far gone. Never able to be happy again. The thought made me punch even harder. I wasn't going to give up so easily. I was better. I was going to be better…

 

* * *

 

"Jen! Stop!" Shane's voice finally filled Jennifer's ears and she paused mid-swing, her chest heaving up and down. Her hair was wild, curly hair unraveling from her ponytail. The man beneath her was bleeding profusely from his eyebrow, blooding draining from the sides of his mouth. She caught the eyes of the wife of the man, she was petrified, sobbing. She momentarily felt bad for what she had done, remembering that this woman was still in love with the man she had just attacked. Shane called in an ambulance and back-up, breathlessly, holding his partner back as the wife ran to her bloodied husband. It was Shane's turn to feel the rocks of nausea as he listened to the woman beg her husband not to die. How badly did she have it to wish the man who was just beating her good health? He steadied Jennifer by her shoulders, her chest continue to heave with each ragged breath. Her eyes never moved from the couple. A panicked look spread across her face and Shane did the only thing he knew… he shushed her. The noise was meant to be calming and soothing as he led her out of the house. Unsure of what she would do if she was in the house any longer. Jennifer reached up to rub her eyes and Shane caught them between his. "You've got blood on 'em," he warned her. His mind raced. "I've got some stuff in the trunk. You stay right here, okay?" Her danced around on something behind him, her expression blank. "Jen!" he barked, grabbing her hands again, shaking them slightly. "Jen! I'm gonna get somethin' from the trunk. Stay right here. Ya got me?" She made eye contact with him, but something about the way she was looking at him made him aware that he was talking to her victimized side. This was not the woman he knew. This was someone different. "Please, Jen, gimme a nod. Stay here." She closed her eyes, giving him the most subtle nods. He rustled through the trunk before finding the hand sanitizer and paper towels.

"This might burn," he warned, holding her hands out before her. He poured a generous amount of hand sanitizer on her hands. She winced, but continued to allow him to do his work. A small hissed escaped Shane's lips as he examined the cuts across her knuckles. "Did that hurt?" She shook her head slowly, dropping her chin to her chest. He glanced back inside, torn between doing his work and making sure she was alright. "I gotta go back in there." His rubbed her shoulders and she flinched, holding her hands up as if she was going to block a blow to her face. His dark eyebrows knitted together and he could feel the pit open up in his stomach. The run was too much for her. She was afraid that he would turn into the man inside the house. That he would beat her into this person again. It made him sick to think of touching her in that way. The thought of anyone putting his hands on Jennifer like that was enough to his neck turn different shades of red. He continue to move in slow circles on her shoulders. "Can ya sit in the car alone for a few until the other guys get here?" he asked. "I don't think the man inside is goin' anywhere for a bit. You're safe out here." Her eyes opened and the victim was still present. Jennifer gave a complacent nod and walked closer to the cruiser. "Get in an' jus' wait here until I get back. I will be right back. I promise." He helped her sit down and turned away when he felt her hand grab his forearm. "I promise, Jen. I will be right back." She blinked and swallowed hard. Unable to stop himself he rubbed his thumb down her cheek, smearing the trail of tears.

Inside, he tried to get a statement from the woman. It was hard for him to imagine anyone else but Jennifer in that moment. A woman on the ground by her bloodied husband, crying, worrying for his safety after taking a bat to the head. He had to take himself faraway to stop any expressions from appearing on his face. There was no way the woman he knew would put up with that. She was the kind of person who didn't let a baby starve, who held a crying girl after she was attacked by her father... she wasn't someone who rolled over and let things happen.

"What's goin' on in here?" a voice asked from over his shoulder. Shane turned to find one of the Linden County officers in the doorway to the kitchen.

"Same ol' shit. Would ya mind takin' over, my partner's a little shaken – "

"Yeah, no problem" the officer replied, cutting Shane off before he could finish. "Take care of her. We got this."

"Thanks," Shane spoke, rising from his crouching position next to the couple. He walked out to the car slowly, not wanting to see what was waiting for him. His hand rubbed the back of his head in its familiar, relaxing pattern. What was he supposed to say or do? Everything's fine now, you can relax. Don't worry about that past shit. Rick would know what to do. Rick would know what to say. Rick would be able to reach out to her in ways he couldn't. Jennifer was unreadable. He didn't know what she was thinking. It had taken him almost a complete year for her to let him in, even just a little. The officer inside told him to take care of her. What if he didn't know how? Maybe that was the real problem. Maybe she could date him but it would be too hard if this happened. He sat down in the driver's seat, fiddling with the keys before starting the engine. If he couldn't figure out how to reset her, he knew at least person who would know how. Shane drove the cruiser out of the yard and headed to the hospital, determined to crack Jennifer's code. Determined to get her back to herself. He debated turning the sirens on, afraid that if he didn't snap her out of it that it would stay. What if that was his fault? All that shit he just said. That argument between just before. What if he did that? He clenched his jaw together. Jennifer continued her trance-like state, staring out of the windshield. There was nothing on her mind in that moment except for alcohol. It helped her forget, helped making the beatings manageable. It had been her friend for a long time and now she needed it.

 

* * *

 

_I heard the door click open and I knew I was in deep shit. I could hear the clatter from his entrance. It was slow, no anger behind his motions. Not yet at least. I held my breath, wondering if I should pretend if I was sleeping. I hadn't been able to do anything but lie in bed most of the day. My side had been bruised up pretty badly from a few nights ago. I didn't answer him fast enough the other night when he was talking. I swallowed and tried to fold in on myself. His footsteps stopped in the doorway. "Hey sweetheart," he cooed. Tonight was going to be a good night. He was sorry. I smiled at the thought. This could be it. This could be what he needed. He sat down on the side of the bed, his hand touched my hip and I flinched at the touch. Sometimes I couldn't stop that. "You know I don't like it when you do that," he spoke darkly. I bit down on my lip. Stupid. Stupid girl. Why did you do that?_

" _I'm sorry, honey, I didn't mean to," I replied._

" _Honey?" he asked with disgust. He didn't like pet names. Rule 5. How did I forget? So stupid._

" _ **Mike**_ _," I clipped out as the fingers on my hip clamped down._

 

* * *

 

I came to in Casey's hospital room, in Casey's bed with him. The lights were dim now. I winced when I moved, half expecting my side to hurt. There was a hand on my calf, rubbing in a slow, steady motion. I stilled, not wanting to move. I tried to orient myself, get a handle on where I was exactly. I felt the strong rhythmic up and down of a chest moving, the strong scent of soap. Casey. My body was tucked directly against his chest. No room for movement. I cleared my throat and the tight arm on my back relaxed. The motion on my calf stopped. "Jen?" Casey asked.

"Yes."

"Oh, Jesus," he whispered, squeezing me. Panic bloomed in my chest and made me react quickly. In one fast shove I was up away from Casey, legs working hard to get me out of the bed. "Whoa! Hey!" he shouted, reaching out to grab me. I flinched away.

"Get away from me!" I shouted, pushing his hands back.

"Jus' calm down!" Shane barked, rising up slowly from the chair. "Somethin' happened, you're fine thought, alright? We had an incident on a run tonight. I think you're just a little shaken up."

"I saw him!" I yelled, positioning myself with my back to the door, ready to bolt out if necessary.

"You saw him?" Shane repeated, slowly.

"Yes! I saw him!"

"Saw who?" Casey asked.

"Mike!" I yelled back.

 

* * *

 

**Note: I promise I will not make this back and forth thing a habit. I hate stories that do that. But I know from experience that the first relationship post-violence is probably the hardest thing to come to terms with. It's not realistic to think she'd just jump into a relationship right away, especially when not much trust has been established between them. I'm working up to all this, I promise! The back and forth will not happen again. They definitely want to be together. I just felt like I needed to explain myself, because no one likes a roundabout story where you're constantly guessing whether or not they will get together.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's note: I am not a huge fan of this chapter, but I do feel things in here are necessary for character and relationship development. Trigger warnings in here. Abuse mostly. She recalls on some things Mike did to her. So, please be warned. Thank you so much for the support as always.**

* * *

 

 

 

**CHAPTER**

**ELEVEN**

 

 

* * *

 

The hospital was calm when they pulled into the parking lot. Jennifer hadn't changed during the drive, still staring straightforward, stuck in a stupor that Shane was afraid she would never pull out of. He parked the car right before the entrance, looking over at her as he shut the engine off. "Hey, you gonna be able to walk inside?" he asked calmly, fidgeting with the keychain. His mind raced as he waited for some form of an answer from her. She gave him a subtle nod. They walked at what Shane considered a snail's pace. She wouldn't speak, her motions were slow and unsteady. Shane brought Jennifer into Casey's room, helping her scoot onto his bed before taking up a chair. It was only the three of them in the small hospital room, Megan had went home to sleep, unable to maintain a hospital schedule any longer. Casey rubbed the sleep from his eyes at the commotion, the lights, the harsh whispering for him to wake up... He was growing used to being woken up every three to four hours for something overnight in the hospital.

"What's goin' on?" he slurred through a yawn.

"Jennifer," Shane told him, holding an arm out to her as Casey focused on him. She was still seated on the side of his bed, unmoving.

"What happened?"

"She had a meltdown while we were on a call."

"10-16?" Shane nodded. Casey shook his head and his shoulders slumped down. He rubbed a steady hand across her back. It had been a while since this had happened. "Jen?" Casey whispered, scooting himself up further in bed the best he could. "Jen, you're safe now... it's Casey." She folded her arms across her chest and tucked her head down. "What happened?" he asked, cautiously. The traces of sleep left his face as it shifted quickly from serious to worried.

"There was a guy beatin' his wife, throwin' things at her - from what I got in the statement. Jen ran in an' jus' started beatin' the hell outta him. Beat him unconscious."

"Shit," Casey muttered, giving her shoulder a squeeze. "It must have been pretty bad. She hasn't had an episode like this since school." He worked his arms around her, pulling her to his chest. He rubbed his hands down her arms and scooted over in the bed to get closer to her. She turned and laid her head against him, still unable to focus on anything.

"What do ya do when this happens?"

"Wait," he replied, maintaining even, steady pressure as he massaged her back.

"How long was she like this for?" Shane asked.

"About an hour. Just completely blank." He feared this might last longer this time. She had enough to worry about with him getting shot and now Shane. Neither one of things was going to work in favor of this trigger. He briefly recalled that night she had a trigger after the lecture about domestic abuse during a lecture. There was a brief video about gas lighting and how to identify an abuser or abusive situation. She couldn't even walk out of the classroom. Casey sat there with her until the next lecture started. She broke down not too long afterwards, there was so much crying and yelling. And a lot of booze. That he distinctly remembered, the strong burn of whiskey and vodka. His stomach could barely handle the smell of vodka after that night.

"Has she ever told ya what happened?"

"Bits and pieces. She's never been one for details. I don't press her for it. Pressing her just makes it worse. I just let her tell me things when she's ready."

"How long did she wait to tell you?"

"She didn't tell me what had happened to her until that night, after the lecture. I was worried. I thought she had a seizure. One of those catatonic ones, you know?" Shane nodded. "I sat up with her that whole night while she cried. She just cried and drank. I didn't know what to do, I had never seen anything like that before in my life. I ended up taking a few extra courses about it to try and help her. I knew she'd never take them herself. It just made her too sad. People were so hard on her about it. They were so damn mean to her. Told her she didn't have the balls to be an officer." Shane bit down on the inside of his cheek and placed his hand on her calf, rubbing in a slow, steady motion just as Casey was doing to her back.

"But she does."

"She does," Casey agreed with a smile. He dragged his finger down the light controls on his bed to dim the lights a little. His body was screaming for sleep, but he was too afraid to shut his eyes, knowing he needed to be there when she came to. He relaxed his head against the pillow, hoping that it would be enough to calm the sleep waiting to strike behind his eyes.

"Do ya think I should leave?" Shane asked. " I don't know how she's gonna feel if she knows I'm here when she wakes up."

"Why?"

"We kinda got into it before that call."

"Kinda got into it, how?" Casey mocked, eyes narrowed.

"I asked her to date me an' she told me she didn't trust me." Casey sighed and rubbed a hand down his face.

"You really think that's true?" Shane shrugged his shoulders. "Just because she's worried about getting hurt again doesn't mean she doesn't trust you. Do you understand how insanely brave she has to be to trust anyone period at this point? A man manipulated their relationship from the _very_ beginning. Think about that for a minute, Walsh, even _you_ aren't _that_ stupid. How willing would you be to let someone into your life?" Shane hunched over in the chair, leaning onto his knees with his elbows. The thought hadn't occurred to him. None of it had. "She needs time and patience and if you aren't willing to give that to her, I don't know, man..." Casey rubbed the side of his face and glanced out of the window. "If you can't handle that, what's the point?" He felt he might have been giving the man a hard time, but this wasn't a joke to Casey. This was his best friend. This was a woman who he had seen at the lowest point in her life and he watched her climb up from it. If there was one thing Casey wasn't going to stand for, it was some selfish prick who just needed someone to hold his attention for a few weeks.

He knew he had partially pushed Jennifer in to starting something with Shane, but there were ways of stopping it if he needed to. That night after they had kissed outside of the bar when she was crying in their patrol car rang clear in his head. Now hearing this, he wasn't sure if Shane could handle it at all. She broke down and the first place Shane brought her was to him. Casey guessed it was easier for him to do that than try to bring her out of it alone. Shane leaned back against the chair this time, stretching his legs out before him. Shane hadn't really thought too much about Jennifer's past. Sure, he knew about it and knew it affected her, but to what degree he wasn't sure. He was definitely sure now. What if he didn't have the patience for her? He rarely had the patience to deal with a lot emotionally. That was mostly the reason for having so many different relationships. So he had to go and get sweet on one of the few people in town who could write a damn book about their past. He watched Jennifer laying there next to Casey in his bed, eyes closed, dark eyebrows threaded together. His eyes dragged down the hard line of her square jaw. There was an intense urge that ripped through him to reach out and touch her. His hand went back to her calf and he rubbed, hoping that it would quell the feeling.

"Do ya think she'll talk to me at some point?" Shane asked after a moment.

"Not if you keep that shit up."

"Can ya tell me at least a little about what happened?" Casey exhaled quickly through his nose. "I'm not wantin' an entire autobiography. Jus' the highlights. I don't want to hurt her an' I need to know if we're gonna be partners. I need to know what to keep her away from." This was one subject Casey hated visiting. He pulled her a little closer to him, adjusting his hand on her back so he could rub it slowly.

"Anything involving domestic violence, really. If you can avoid them, I would. Especially those in the next few weeks. She'll hate you for it. She really will, but with all that's going on, it would be best." Shane nodded. "I don't want to get into details if she hasn't told you. That's her place to tell you, not mine." The men sat quietly for a long time, neither one of them interested talking to each other. Casey was pissed at Shane for accusing Jennifer of not trusting him and Shane didn't have much to say. He was too wrapped up in his own thoughts. Jennifer murmured something in her sleep. Shane's hand hadn't moved from her calf this time. She cleared her throat and the men made eye contact. "Jen?" Casey asked cautiously. He prayed she had finally broken out of her moment, that she was back to herself.

"Yes," she answered through a crack in her voice. Her mind was aware of everything in the environment. How much light there was, that there were two different hands on her, still dressed in her uniform. The sickening nostril burning smell of disinfectant.

"Oh Jesus," Casey whispered, squeezing her to his side. The feeling was too much at once. Too much to deal with. It sent Jennifer into a frantic state. Seeing Mike in her dreams was like a shot of adrenaline. In one fluid motion, she pushed herself up away from Casey and scrambled to get out of the bed. She needed to know who the other person was in the room. She needed to be sure it wasn't Mike. He was always so sneaky when he needed to be. Always watching everything she did. He could be anywhere at any time. Casey wouldn't let him inside the room would he? He wouldn't let him touch her like that. She repeated this over and over in her mind. "Whoa! Hey!" he shouted, reaching out to grab her and pull her back. She flinched and Casey's eyebrows furrowed together. Jennifer wouldn't do that. He held his palms up, facing towards her.

"Get away from me!" she screamed, moving her hands to push Casey away. Her eyes met Shane's. He could see the fear. He recognized the look. It was the one she gave him the night they killed the man in town near the park. Her green eyes were wide, moving between him and Casey as if they would attack her at any moment.

"Jus' calm down!" Shane barked, rising up slowly from the chair. "Somethin' happened, you're fine though, alright? We had an incident on a run tonight. I think you're just a little shaken up." He held his hands out as if he was in a hostage negotiation. He took a slow, steady step towards her and stopped as she continued to walk backwards, body crouched, ready to attack. Her fists were balled up at her sides, knuckles white.

"I saw him!" she yelled, backing herself up near the door. Shane looked over at Casey, confusion written on his face. Her eyes darted back forth between the men. Neither one of them were going to touch her again. Not until she knew where he was.

"You saw him?" Shane repeated, slowly.

"Yes! I saw him!"

"Saw who?" Casey asked, already knowing the answer. He needed to hear her say it. He needed to be sure.

"Mike!" she yelled. Shane stared at Jennifer confusedly. Casey's face dropped. She never said his name. His name alone would bring tears to her eyes and rock her body with nausea. Not tonight. Tonight it brought out pure fear.

"Jen," Casey spoke to her softly, like he was lulling a baby back to sleep. "Mike is in prison. _You're safe_."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I would never lie to you, Jen. You know who I am. I would never do that to you." She looked at him carefully, examining his face closely. "I would kill that fucker before he touched you again." Jennifer's eyes closed and she rested her head on the door of the hospital room. It was a struggle to come back to reality. After the panic, there was so much fear. She hated lapsing back into that person. She hated still fearing him. She hadn't said his name in a year. She hated that she was still counting how long she had went without thinking or saying his name. Hadn't it been long enough? There had to be a time frame on these things. There just had to be. How did other people on so easily? She was tired of being that same weak person. She worked so hard to build herself up and then one small nightmare would happen and knock her right back down. She wasn't that person anymore. She knew it. She knew in reality that if he was before her now that she would beat his ass unconscious, just the same as the man on the call earlier that night.

"Casey..." she muttered after a pause, her eyes still shut. She knew him. She knew Casey. He was her best friend, her protector. He wouldn't lie about Mike. She sank down to the floor. "How long was I out for?" She sounded defeated. Her fingers traced over the newly formed lacerations across her knuckles. "Who did I hurt?"

"A man was beatin' his wife. You ran in an' beat the shit out of him," Shane answered, sitting on the arm rest of his chair.

"How badly did I hurt him?"

"Ya knocked him unconscious." She grimaced and felt the hot tears start to fall.

"I hate this so much," she cried. "Why can't I just be okay?" Jennifer raised her eyes to look at Casey.

"It takes time..."

"I've given it time!" she shouted. "I've given it years!" Casey turned to look at Shane. He jerked his head in her direction. Shane's eyebrows raised.

"Get over there," Casey grumbled. Shane rose up from the arm chair slowly. Jennifer had placed her head in her hands, her shoulders shuddering with each cry. He walked as slowly as possible to reach his partner. When he was a foot away she looked up at him and held her hands out to him. He swallowed the painful lump that had formed itself in his throat at some point. Shane took both of her hands and twisted to sit down on the floor next to her. He tucked one arm around her shoulders and pulled her over so she was halfway laying on him.

"I didn't mean to make you mad in the car," she whispered into his chest, her voice nasally and stuffed from crying.

"Hey, shhh, don't worry about that," he whispered, resting his mouth and chin against her head. "I shouldn't have said what I did." She wrapped her arm around his waist and wrapped one of her legs around his, just relishing in the contact with him. He kissed the side of her head and sighed. "I know better than to believe that ya don't trust me."

"I hope so," she sniffed, unable to fight the smile creeping up on her lips. Casey smiled to himself as he watched them. This was what he wanted to see. This is what she needed.

"Don't forget about me," he muttered from across the room. This time, she truly smiled and shot her friend a look.

"I don't know who could forget about you, you fucking mess," she teased, rising to walk over to him. He laughed and leaned back against the bed, allowing her to encompass him in a hug. How could she be so down on herself with the support she had? These two men would barrel through a burning building to help her. They dealt with the insane past that still crept around behind her like a dark wisp in the shadows. She wasn't going to continue to let it bring her down. At least not today. She had a job to do. She had a life to live. Mike was in prison. She had Casey, Trevor, Terry, Megan, and Shane. She had all of these people behind her. She couldn't afford to let them down. Jennifer wasn't going to let this episode get the best of her. There was no way she was going to let Mike win this time. The other times she had a breakdown she would lie down in bed, drink, and cry. Today was not one of those days. She could cry about it later. She could drink about it later.

"Please take it easy on yourself," he whispered as he squeezed her. "I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something happened to you."

"I love you, Casey," she whispered back.

"You too." Jennifer rose up from their embrace. She stole a glance at the clock, it was just a little past midnight, leaving them with seven hours in their shift.

"Well, come on. We have work to do," she spoke, nudging past Shane. His eyebrows rose.

"People aren't going to protect themselves. Besides, there's only a few of us, remember?" He nodded to her and watched her leave the room with his eyes. She smiled at him from the doorway before disappearing down the hallway. Shane turned to look at Casey, hands on his utility belt.

"I mean what I said, Walsh. Give her the patience she needs." The warning in Casey's voice was evident. Shane gave him a single nod before leaving the room. He found Jennifer near the elevators, wiping a tissue under her eyes. She was thankful she hadn't worn any make-up for patrol that night. She stole a glance at her partner before chucking the tissue into the trash between the two elevator doors. Her hands went to rest on her belt, fiddling with the snaps that helped carry the weight of her gear. "Look ya don't have to work tonight if ya don't feel like it. I can call Tiffany in an' have her patrol with me. You an' her partner can take over on-foot patrols."

"I'm fine," she insisted, her eyes watching for the light of one of the elevator cars to pop up. There was no way she was going to let Tiffany take over on her patrol. Mike wasn't going to away the job she had to do when he wasn't even there. Shane clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing. He noted that at some point she had fixed her bun, smoothing out of wild strays that were poking out everywhere from her scuffle. She looked almost like herself.

"Jen..."

"I said I'm fine," she snapped, her green eyes popping over to meet his. He shook his head and folded his arms over his chest. Patience. The word flooded through his mind. Casey had told him to have patience. He was debating if the patience was worth it. The thought of having to spend months at this, just to break through to her was daunting. This wasn't his specialty. Most girls he knew with issues with their ex-boyfriends just rambled on about it endlessly. It was all a part of their drama, their ambiance. He loved it and hated it at the same time. Crazy seemed to be one of the descriptive factors to most of the women he got involved with. That word was too harsh to apply to Jennifer. She wasn't like that. Shane couldn't bring himself to compare her to the other women he had dated because she wasn't like them. Jennifer wasn't high maintenance. She didn't require a lot of finicky attention. That was another thing he liked. Not every moment of his day needed to orbit whatever she was doing. She was just fine doing things on her own.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Jennifer walked inside first, turning to meet Shane as she pressed the button. They rode down to the bottom floor in silence, neither one of them making eye contact or looking at each other. Jennifer blew past him the moment the doors opened, walking in a way he would describe as lethal. There was nothing feminine about the way she walked in her uniform. She was all chest and shoulders when that uniform was on. Her shoulders were even, back straight, one hand on her utility belt, the other at her side. Her hair was back in a tight bun, low, close to her collar. Flashes of that morning came forward, his hands pulling his uniform from her body. Feeling every inch of her skin, listening to the moans that came from her lips... Her dominance in public was a huge turn on for him. He watched her walk to the front doors, feeling the heat gather in his stomach.

 

* * *

 

I stopped when I reached the door, realizing that Shane wasn't standing behind me. I grabbed the push bar on the door and turned to see him stuck at the elevator, still just outside of the doors to the one we stepped out of. "Shane!" I snapped. He blinked and rose his eyebrows, his hand rubbing the back of his head. "Come on," I snapped again, pushing the door open. He finally moved from his spot and came towards the doors. The cruiser was parked just near the entrance, right up next to the curb. I got in and waited for Shane to join, fumbling through my messenger bag for some jerky. I ripped a piece off and stuffed it into my mouth as Shane sat down in the driver's seat.

"Alright, ya gotta spill," he spoke, throwing the keys into the dashboard. I struggled to chew on the last remaining bit that was still in my mouth when he turned to look at me, his eyes dark, eyebrows raised, mouth in a thin line. "I need ta know what ya can't deal with. It's not safe for ya to be out here without someone knowin', Jen. Ya can't jus' barrel inside like that. What if he had a gun? Or there was more than one guy? _Huh?_ You would'a gotten yourself killed because of blind rage. I gotta know. Ya don't have ta tell me everything. Hell knows if I hear it I will wanna drive myself to this guy's prison an' beat the fuck outta him myself." My eyes widened as I gulped down the last of the jerky, and glanced out of the window. There wasn't going to be any escaping him this time, I knew it. I had hurt someone. _Really_ hurt someone. If Rick wasn't unconscious I'm sure this would qualify for one of those 24 hour 'keep your ass in line' moments. I shrugged back against the seat, eyes still focused ahead.

"What do you want to know?" I mumbled out. Shane had proven himself to be worthy of secretive information. He was my partner. We had had sex together on more than one occasion now. He wanted to date, but I didn't. That was enough in normal people's standards, but I was still cautious. I pulled down the bun that I worked hard on fixing just a few moments ago and ran my hands through it.

"How old was he?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" I quipped, casting a dark look at him.

"Jus' answer the question."

"He was a few years older than me at the time."

"When did he start hurtin' ya? An' why?"

"A few months in, he caught me talking to some guy from school."

"What did he do?" I exhaled quickly, feeling the pins and pricks up my spine. I wanted to scoff at that question. What in the fuck hadn't Mike done? That list was a lot shorter compared to what he had actually done. I wrapped my hands around a large amount of hair and tugged gently. Where did I even start? The beatings? Always with the left hook to my eye. The ungodly amounts of make-up I would have to wear. If I was _allowed_ to wear make-up that week. Heaven help me if I was talking to anyone he could see while I was leaving class. He had a baseball bat in our bedroom. I knew every swirl of the grain. I knew the rough spots and smooth spots that made up each inch of that wood. I hated baseball for this reason. There was nothing calming about watching men swing around the item of most of my beatings.

Before I could stop myself, most of my past with Mike was spewing out of my mouth. Each little thing I could think of would pop up and I couldn't stop myself from talking about it. Like that first night he hit me. I took a sharp backhand to my face as I defended myself for talking to my classmate. My first mistake that started the downfall of what I thought was a perfect relationship. The fresh taste of blood filled my mouth within seconds after the contact. Something inside told me to run, but I had been tricked. I had been led into the abyss where escaping just didn't come easily. Months of prepping me by him suddenly fell into place. I was under his control. I stayed my ground and sobbed while he rubbed my back, telling me that it wouldn't happen again, that just the thought of me being with someone else made him crazy. It went from my fault to his fault and vice versa for hours. The end result was that it was my fault, my smile had clearly shown I was flirting and Mike was afraid I was going to leave him. This was the path laid out for me. No talking to anyone without permission, even people in class. I became to fear that he would know if I talked to anyone. I would have to tell him who I had spoken to during class and hell help me if I missed one person. I tried to keep this list as short as possible. Soon after that, I wasn't allowed to talk to my family. Terry and Trevor didn't like Mike and they didn't like him for a damn good reason. Your family and smell that shit before you can. I was just too damn stubborn to see it. Mike's reasoning was that he would never let his family talk poorly of me, so why should I let mine talk so badly about him? Our love was that important to him. Why did I let them talk about Mike so poorly if I loved Mike so much? That obviously meant I didn't love Mike. I tried to ask my family to stop talking about him like that, but they didn't and it blew up in my face. I had to stop talking to them too. Just like that. Mike said no family, so no family. I wanted to show him I loved him the same way. That I loved him more than he loved me. How fucked up was that? I swallowed hard and glanced over to Shane who hadn't moved. He was rubbing his jaw when I turned to look at him, his eyebrows wrinkled together.

"How long was his sentence?" I shrugged. I honestly didn't know because Trevor never told me. All I knew was that it was a long time. "What's his last name?"

"No, Shane," I clipped out. " _No_."

"That's a pretty unusual last name." I glared at him and folded my arms across my chest.

"That's enough for one night."

"C'mon Jen," he spoke as he wrestled to grab the laptop computer from the backseat. He wanted to look up what prison he was in. I already knew what he doing the moment he asked for his last name. I wasn't ready to know that yet. I had fought the urge since coming to King's County. I wasn't going to give in now. Especially not tonight. "I won't tell ya if that makes ya feel better."

"I said no, Shane," I warned, closing the laptop lid as he opened it. He cocked his brow and made eye contact. "I said that's enough, please don't make it worse. You know things I haven't told anyone except my counselor."

He gave me one last look before tossing the laptop into it's place in the backseat. We spent the rest of the night driving around town, only speaking to each other when absolutely necessary. There was no way I was ever going to find a man like Casey. How and why did I think that Shane was going to be like Casey in any way? There was too much wrong with me for anyone to be interested, especially someone like Shane. Mike might have been right this entire time. What would anyone find interesting about me? I leaned back into the seat and internally damned myself for even thinking that way, but with the increasingly uncomfortable silence between Shane and I... I knew I had been wrong in saying so much. Or maybe I had just been wrong to involve him in my mess at all. I should have handled myself better back on that call. If this was how it was going to be with us, I didn't know how we were going to last as partners until Rick got better. Shane should have known better than to trust me as his partner. Just because he knew about my past didn't mean he could know when I was going to lash out. It would only take seeing a baseball bat sometimes and I would crumble to the ground like a newborn giraffe. I would fall right on back to that defenseless version of myself.

Our shift ended uneventfully. I fidgeted in the seat while he drove us to my house, unable to bring myself to ask him if he was going to stay. There was no way I could form the words. Instead, I listened to the quiet beat of some classic rock station he had turned on between two in the three in the morning when he must have finally decided I wasn't talking anymore. We made accidental eye contact when he turned down my street and I quickly glanced away, feeling embarrassment climb it's way up my neck. The brakes squeaked a lot louder than usual as the cruiser stopped before my house. I swallowed hard and waited, but the engine continued to run. Damn it. Damn this shit. Damn it all. I bit down on my lip and swallowed hard, gathering my messenger back with my left hand before retching the door open. I turned back to look at him, but he was too busy staring off at something in the tree line. I started to step out of the car and still noticed no change. An audible frustrated huff escaped my lips. I couldn't take it anymore. I needed things to be okay between Shane and I. And some part of that was pissing me off. But a greater part of what was pissing me off was that Shane was just going to drive off without saying a word to me. I deserved better than that.

"Don't," I grumbled turning back into the squad car. I threw my bag to the ground and climbed across the console to reach Shane. With both hands I turned his face to mine and pressed my lips against his hard. "Please don't," I muttered, only pulling back for a second. My hands stayed in placed, one on either side of his jaw. He kissed back with the same intensity that made me forget to breathe for a second. His hands covered mine briefly before resting on my face in the same fashion. It made all of the thoughts I was having dizzy and fuzzy, I just forgot about every-fucking-thing. I didn't want to think anymore. I didn't know what was going on between Shane and I and I wasn't ready to date, but I wasn't ready to give him up yet either. He pulled back and smirked, brushing hair away from my face. I bit down on the inside of my lip, _that fucking smirk._


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's note: Wine is one hell of a smut motivator. Smut is not my specialty by the way, but I am trying to get better at it. Practice makes perfect. Some smut here, then back to our regularly scheduled program! I sort of also feel like some of their emotions are rushed in here at the beginning but, I think between the last chapter and this scene they both come to realize what they both really want. I read through this one time. Apologies in advance for any fuck ups.**

**Thank you guys!**

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**CHAP** **TER**

**TWELVE**

 

 

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Moments later they burst through the door to the house, Shane's tongue rubbing against her bottom lip eagerly as she fought to nudge her boots off. The sun was fighting to rise, giving them just enough light to see each other and their surroundings. Both of them were desperate to have each other, each one ready to let go of the emotions that had plagued them most of the night. He was in a rush to get her upstairs, after seeing the way she had walked across that hospital lobby, not much else had been playing in the background. She fought the urge to moan when he bit down on the same spot he had been toying with his tongue. Finally free of her boots, Jennifer took charge and pushed him onto the nearest wall, running her hands up and down his clothed chest. An offhanded smile caught his lips as she fumbled with the latch on the belt. She was pleasantly surprised at his reaction to the kiss in the patrol car. There wasn't anything to hide from him anymore. He knew almost everything there was to know. There was only so many different ways you could explain being abused. He knew her story now. He wasn't disgusted by her. He held his hands up and allowed her to work, with a quick glance up, she met his eyes and smiled back. Something about the smile caught him off-guard. Maybe it was the careless was she had done it, he wasn't sure, but it made him hold her gaze for a little longer than what he was used to. With a single swipe of his hand, her hair was out of its tight prison, flowing down past her shoulders.

In the soft light coming in from outside, he tried to take in every small detail of her face that he could. Trying to memorize the way her hair framed itself around her face. His hands ghosted over the cut of Jennifer's jaw, yearning to be tangled up in her mess of dark curls. Using her time wisely, she sent off onto the task of unbuttoning his uniform as their mouths collided. Their mouths were heated, neither able to get enough of the unique taste that accompanied them. Jennifer's had an unusually spicy, salted taste from the jerky she had been eating most of the night. He angled her head to match his rhythm. A low moan rumbled in her throat. They broke away from each other for a second, but he held her flush to him, not willing to let her get any farther away. He had let her out of his reach enough for the last year. He had let her go so many times. He wasn't willing to do it so easily anymore.

"Upstairs?" she panted, eyes unconsciously bouncing to the ceiling before landing back on his. Shane trapped his lower lip between his teeth and nodded. Jennifer smiled again and grabbed his hand, pulling him to the stairs, allowing Shane to fumble to knock his boots off this time. A small giggle escaped her lips as he cursed, kicking the pair across the wooden floor. He was having difficulty concentrating on anything else but the small brunette in front of him. "Having a bit of trouble?" she whispered, turning, her foot on the bottom step.

"That's not the first thing to give me trouble tonight," he mumbled, taking the chance to pin her to the wall. A playful smirk spread across her face as he pulled her uniform to the side to bite on the skin where he neck and shoulder met. She coughed out a mix of a moan and laugh, clutching his back to hold him in place. His tongue wet the area and he bit down again before dragging his mouth up her neck. Shane outlined her jaw with his mouth, peppering her skin with kiss after kiss. He was desperate to show her he was trying. He was trying to be more for her, trying to show patience and understanding. This was one of the only ways he knew how. He only knew how to show her these things with his body, with his actions. Jennifer's hips pushed into his. She slipped her hands around his opened uniform shirt to touch the skin that awaited there behind his thin white undershirt. He sucked in a breath at the touch, pulling his lips away from her jaw. "Upstairs," he groaned.

"Upstairs," she agreed, willing herself to stop touching him for a moment. Her fingers scrambled over the latch of her own utility belt, fighting against the adrenaline pumping through her. At the last step she had managed to get the belt loose, holding it in her right hand as she turned to meet Shane. His mouth was in a hurry to be back against hers. In the collision, she dropped the belt with a loud thud, unable to contain the beast that needed to touch the man before her. Shane did his best to lead her backwards into her room, using one hand to skate along the walls as the other attempted to undo the buttons on her uniform shirt. Inside of her room, it was a flurry. He worked feverishly to take the clothing away from her body as she did the same to him. Each one was pushing and pulling, throwing things across the room. She kicked the door to her room closed as he pulled her pants off. When she was down to her panties and sports bra, he pushed her backwards onto the bed. Jennifer pouted, sitting up on her elbows, eyes landing on his still clothed bottom half.

"Your pants," she muttered as he climbed over her, pressing his lips to her shoulder.

"In time, darlin'," he whispered, his tongue making a variety of shapes and swirls to the crook where her shoulder and neck met. He knew it was her weakness without her even saying so. He could feel the change in the pace of her breathing, from heavy, pleasurable exhales to the short, swallow pants. Positioning himself on his left forearm near her shoulder, he drew a line with his finger across her chest, the touch was soft and light. Their eyes met and he pressed his mouth to hers, feeling himself mold to her. He added more fingers, dragging them down her stomach, noting the tight and warm feeling he had in bottom of his stomach when touching her. Jennifer shuddered at the touch, moaning as his tongue tangled with hers. Shane's fingers stopped close to the edge of her panties, teasingly pulling and pushing at the fabric, rubbing the skin there. Her hips bucked and she reached down to take them off herself when his hands shot up and trapped her hands above her head. He nipped at her neck. "I'll do that." The feeling of his breath on her already aching skin made her hips twinge.

"Shane," she moaned, " _please_." He smirked and rubbed himself against her hip, the strain in his pants was evident. She was hopeless there beside him, unable to contain that groan that came when he shifted himself on top of her to allow her to feel him in the place where she wanted him the most. He gripped her hands a little tighter as he rubbed himself against her. The tight feeling of his pants hit her in a way that she wasn't expecting. She choked back a whine and closed her eyes, throwing her head back as he did it again. He did it one more time before releasing her hands. He pressed a chaste kiss to her lips and worked himself down her body, pulling her panties off in a slow, steady tug with both hands. His dark eyes raked themselves across her toned body, taking in the definition of muscles in her legs. He ran his hands up and down them before hooking them under her thighs and pushing them up. She took in a ragged breath, slowly realizing what he was doing as he positioned his mouth above her spot. His mouth was warmer than she was. She didn't remember his mouth being that warm when she felt it earlier. It left her breathless. He worked slowly at first, using the entirety of his tongue to stroke the bundle of nerves. She bucked against him and moved her hands down to his hair, running them through his long, wavy locks. Shane grunted and released his grip from her thighs to hold her hands down at her sides.

She hissed as he continued to work, moving his tongue a little faster. Jennifer was sweet in his mouth. He moaned at the taste, swallowing hard before flicking the tip of his tongue against her a few times. Her lower lip became the point of frustration, her hands balled into fists. He smirked as she moaned again, thighs quivering slightly. He kissed her on the small, tight nub, working his mouth out to the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Her entire body convulsed when his lips made contact. His name slithered out of her mouth and he felt it down in his core. He kissed and licked each thigh with no real rhythm, finding pleasure in the way her body shook at every touch there. Her hands were gripping the sheets now, knuckles white, the lacerations there threatening to burst open again. Shane released her hands to rub the inside of her thigh and she reached out to touch him.

"Darlin'," he warned, his voice jagged from his own unreleased tension. "I'll handcuff ya to the bed." She smiled at him, something innocent and sweet that made him completely lose control. He climbed his way on top of her again, bumping teeth as their mouths collided again. Jennifer's hips shifted below his and she pushed them, wanting to meet what was waiting for her behind his uniform pants. He drove his lips down into the woman's below him and she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer. Shane grunted, lips hovering above hers. She raked her nails down the bare skin of his muscled back. He inhaled quickly, arms shaking. "Jen…" he warned again, nipping her jaw. She bit down on his lip this time.

"I'll get them off one way or another," she teased, running her fingers down his chest. She undid the button and struggled with the zipper, not wanting to hurt him. He sat back on his knees and worked the zipper down as she ridded her chest of the sports bra. The sun had completely risen now, casting a yellow haze into the room. She helped him pull his pants and boxers off, rubbing her tongue on his chest, kissing skin here and there as she did. His head fell back as she wet her palm and stroked him, using a slow and steady stroke. His eyes closed and he hooked an arm around her waist, helping her settle back down onto the bed. Shane hovered above her for a moment, caught in the way she was staring at him. Her green eyes filled with want, a slight smirk on her lips. A heavy pant escaped between them as he rubbed himself against her opening. It was his turn to smirk. This was what she wanted. She wanted him. She trusted him. He knew it. He had known it the entire time. She was his, she was too afraid to admit it. It was slowly starting to make sense to him. How could she look at him that way and not be his? He closed his eyes and sank himself into her, tasting Jennifer's lips through a grunt.

 

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The pair walked into the hospital later that afternoon in civilian clothing. Shane debated back and forth through the parking lot on whether or not to hold her hand, unable to read what she was thinking. Jennifer smiled at him as they directed themselves to the elevators. She turned to face and him and gave him the quickest of kisses on the cheek. He smirked and ducked his head down, fumbling with his keys in the pocket of his hoodie before reaching down and grabbing her hand. The redness that crept onto her cheeks made it worth it on his part. The elevator dinged, the doors opened, and they walked inside. There was a telling smile on both of their faces. Most of their morning and afternoon had consisted of sex, napping, and more sex… which had brought to showering, more sex, and another nap. They had finally climbed out of bed and off of each other near five in the evening, both of them hoping that they hadn't slept enough to ruin their sleep that night. Shane and Jennifer started their day shift patrols the next day. Last night was the first time she had been able to recover from an unsettling trigger without needing to drink until she was unconscious. Something about it had felt liberating, but she knew most of the reason why she had been able to make it through the night was standing right next to her, rubbing a gentle thumb across her bandaged knuckles.

The car opened on Casey's floor and Jennifer walked to get off, turning when she didn't feel Shane move. "You go on ahead, I'm gonna go see Rick," he told her, rubbing his free hand on his neck. "I jus' need ta talk ta him." She nodded and gave his hand a squeeze before letting go.

"Do you want me to meet you upstairs?"

"Nah," he smiled, raising his head to meet hers. "I'll come back down an' getcha."

"Okay." She returned the smile and let the elevator doors close before walking off to Casey's room.

Inside, Casey and Megan were arguing over rental cars. Neither one of them were able to come to an agreement due to either size or price. Megan was mostly concerned about how Casey was going to fit into the backseat with his leg needing to be completely straight. Casey was worried about the dramatic increase in price between a compact and an SUV. He was willing to sacrifice a few hours of discomfort for a two hundred dollar difference in the fees. "Quit bein' such a damn cheap ass, babe. How're you gonna make it all the way to my parents scrunched up in a damn Yaris?" Megan argued, showing him the specs on the backseat again.

"I'll find a way. We can stop and let me stretch my legs a few times on the way. It's not like I'm going to make it North Carolina without taking at least one stop or two to go pee, Megan," Casey argued back. Jennifer knocked before walking in, giving the couple a moment to cool off before heading in the rest of the way. "Come in!" Casey shouted as he handed a stack of rental agreement paperwork back to Megan. She walked in to greet the both of them. Their faces turned to polite smiles, neither one of them exactly happy about anything due to the complexity of their trip planning with Casey's injury. "Oh god, if I wasn't glued to this bed I'd make you take me out for a beer," he whined to his friend as she hugged Megan.

"Don't be such a baby," Megan bit at him over Jennifer's shoulder.

"I'm not being a baby! I'm already going broke from being in the hospital! Now you want a big ass car when we _already_ agreed on the Yaris!"

"An' that was before ya got shot!" Jennifer attempted to smile at the both of them, the arguing putting a damper on her mood.

"Guys, I can leave…" Jennifer piped in, pointing at the door with her thumb. "I don't mind…"

"No! Get over here," Casey ordered, patting a spot on his bed. "And tell me what happened after you left here." Blush flooded Jennifer's cheeks. She walked over and took up the space he offered to her. She silently glanced over some of the papers spread out on his bedside table, looking at a map with the route already planned out. They were trying to make a few historical stops on their way to Megan's parents. Casey had never been to North Carolina or South Carolina before so they were trying to get the most out of their trip.

"You never did tell where exactly you were going," she told him, picking up the map.

"My parents live in Kitty Hawk, right on the beach," Megan chirped in, smiling as she handed Jennifer a picture. She whistled at the clearly newish single story beach house on stilts. It was a bright yellow, outlined in white trim, large windows in the front flanking each side of the front door. The front door was a dark blue with a small round window.

"It looks beautiful." Jennifer handed the pictures back over before turning to look at Casey who was studying her curiously. "What?" she barked, shifting to face her best friend head on.

"What happened?" Casey muttered, reaching for a cup of water off of his table.

"What do you mean, _what happened_?" He raised an eyebrow at her as he drank. She didn't break eye contact as he swallowed. There was something going on with her. Something was off and he wasn't quite sure what it was yet.

"What happened when you left here?" Jennifer raised an eyebrow this time, shrugging her shoulders. "Jesus, Jen, how was patrol? Did you and Shane talk?"

"Yes…" she answered, the yes coming out a lot longer than she intended. He narrowed his eyes and smiled. "Quit!" she chirped, smacking his arm with the back of her hand. "Patrol was fine. We didn't get any more calls and Shane and I _are fine_."

"Oh, I'm sure you're both _fine_ ," he teased with a short laugh.

"Just because you're crippled doesn't mean I won't kick your ass."

"I've been tellin' him that all mornin'," Megan added in.

"So where is _Mr. Man_ at right now?" Casey asked, glancing at the doorway, halfway expecting Shane to come barreling through at any moment. He refocused on Jennifer when he realized that Shane wasn't actually going to come in.

"He's upstairs with Rick," Jennifer told him, standing to stretch out before sitting in the chair beside his bed.

"Interesting."

"Why is that _interesting_?" she mocked, positioning her hands behind her head.

"That he wants to see his best friend after a night or should I say _day_ , of sex with you."

"Yes, Casey, it's very unusual that someone wants to see his best friend while he's in a coma." Casey shrugged his shoulders and stared outside, wishing he was able to spend at least an hour outside. He hated being stuck in a hospital bed. And he absolutely hated being waited on every second of every hour. It was draining to him, not being able to do the things he was used to doing, right on down to being able to use the toilet. The nurses still hadn't been able to progress him into using the bedside commode and he was growing more and more frustrated about that on top of his trip. "When are you two going to leave for your trip?" she asked casually, trying to keep the pair from fighting again.

"At the end of next week," Casey answered.

"I'm surprised you're still going."

"We weren't goin' to, but ya know how he gets. He gets stuck on somethin' an' he wants to do it," Megan chimed in, shaking her head as she typed away on her laptop. She was desperate to find a voucher or some kind of code that would discount their upgrade to an SUV.

"Oh yes, Casey's biggest flaw: persistence," she teased, giving him a playful nudge in the hand with hers. "It's a shame you weren't a politician."

"I think we can all agree it's a good thing I'm not," he teased back. Jennifer nodded her head and allowed herself a small laugh.

"How long are you going to be gone? Still for two weeks?"

"I think so," Casey answered. The thought of being without him for that long was daunting. She knew he needed this trip, especially now, but not being able to see him whenever she wanted was so slowly beginning to freak her out. They hadn't gone any more than two days without seeing each other since they had met. It was selfish, but she wanted him to stay. She would even tag-along if she was asked. Sure, she would pretend like she didn't want to go at first, but knowing Casey and his prodding, she would eventually get asked and be able to say yes without looking desperate. With all the pressure on her from Tim to do a good job, she wasn't sure how she would handle him being gone. "Hey," he whispered, reaching out to grab her hand. "I'll call you every day. You know that right? It's going to take more than two weeks for you to get rid of me." She smiled and squeezed his hand.

 

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Upstairs Shane paced Rick's floor for a few moments. He felt like he was physically unable to look at his friend. Rick was lying in a hospital bed, tube down his throat, the machine on the pole near his bed was beeping furiously, a bad of fluid hanging above it, a line going into his arm, a line coming out from under sheets filled with urine. His skin was as a dusky color, not it's usually tanned hue. There were dark circles under his eyes, a five o'clock shadow along his jaw. The sickeningly pale green hospital gown that he was wearing made his skin color even more washed out. This was not Rick. Not to Shane. He swallowed hard before making himself really look at his partner. He glanced at all of the cards and balloons around him, smiling as he looked at a crayon drawing made by Carl. Someone had positioned it directly over Rick's bed. Shane was willing to guess it had been Lori's doing. He kept his distance in the room, standing as far away from the bed as he could get. Running a hand across his chin and up his face he glanced out of the window again, wondering for a brief moment why it hadn't been him that had gotten shot. He didn't have a wife, or a son, or a family. He wasn't the leader that Rick was. With a quick sigh he approached the bed and sat in the chair that had been placed across from the IV pole.

"I don'know if you can hear me or not, but shit's really goin' south out here an' I really need ya to wake up," Shane grumbled, low enough for only Rick to hear. "Tim's been ridin' my ass an' there's some crazy ass guy I had to shoot the other night. He was absolutely fucked, bro. I mean jus' kept goin' after this lady, tryin' to bite her, he actually scratched her leg. It was somethin' else." Shane shook his head and rubbed another hand down his face. His eyes trailed over Rick's face again and he felt nausea rock through him this time. He bit down on his lower lip and ran both hands through his hair, massaging his scalp. There was a lot he wanted to talk about. He wanted to tell Rick about him and Jennifer. He wanted to tell Rick how good the sex was and what her uncle was like. It was just too strange for him. He wasn't used to doing this. It was hard enough to talk about his feelings with a live person, but to do it with someone who couldn't talk back? Fat fucking chance. "The coroner isn't even sure what this guy was on. Jen thinks it was some kinda stimulant, ya know? She thought it might'a been some kinda cocaine." He stared at Rick again, half expecting him to wake up. Rick didn't do this. Rick didn't get hurt and lay in bed like this. Rick was supposed to be the strong one. He was supposed to be out here knowing exactly what to do. Shane was the one who would just nod and make sure everyone did what he said. That was Shane's job. Shane was the back-up. He shook his head again and stood up, pacing the room when his cellphone rang. The coroner. With a heavy sigh, Shane answered the call.

 

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Shane ran to the elevator. He pressed the button and when the car didn't arrive immediately, he sprinted to the stairs, running to find Jennifer in Casey's room. His mind was racing with what the coroner had told him. After about a hundred different tests, the coroner had found out that the man was actually infected with the mysterious illness that had been popping up around the world, the one on the news that everyone had been in a frantic mess about. Shane came to stop outside of Casey's room. He paused when he heard them laughing, knocking hard on the door frame. The laughter stopped and he glanced in to find Jennifer in his sight, turning to look at him. Her face became serious upon seeing Shane, who was out of breath, panting in the doorway. "We gotta go," he told her, giving a short wave to Casey and Megan. Jennifer rose from her chair slowly, narrowing her eyes as she tried to read him. "The coroner called. It's serious." Her eyes widened and she bid her goodbyes to her friends. She halfway jogged to meet him outside the room, a panicked look spreading into fear.

"What did he say?" she asked, still trying to read his face.

"He wouldn't say much," he choked out, leading her to the elevators.

"Shane," Jennifer warned, giving him a serious look. "We're partners, remember? You have to tell me what you know." Shane shook his head.

"We gotta tell Tim."

"Well you _gotta_ tell me first." She turned to face him, arms across her chest, feet planted firmly on the floor. She wasn't going to let him push her out. He could try. But he wasn't. Not with whatever this was. She had never seen him this scared, except for the moments after Rick had been shot. This wasn't Shane.

"It's that illness they keep talkin' 'bout on the news." Her face fell and she covered her mouth with the back of her hand, eyes wide.


	13. Chapter 13

**Not a whole lot of action here. Some potential OOC moments for Shane compared to how his demeanor has been in the beginning chapters. There's a lot of fear between the both of them about the entire situation. I would expect that anyone would be a little shaken up with something like this happening. No edits yet at this time! I'm trying to go back and edit a few of the chapters here and there to fix any errors I may have missed.**

**Thanks for reading!**

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**CHAPTER**

**THIRTEEN**

 

 

* * *

 

 

An impromptu meeting with Tim at his house was the last thing either one of them had wanted to do that night, but Shane insisted. Tim needed to hear the news. Shane drove the pair to Tim's house on the outskirts of town, a much nicer and newer farmhouse in comparison to Terry's. The ride was quiet, as their usual. There was so much to think about and not enough ways to say it all. Jennifer wanted a plan, she wanted some form of information to prepare them for what would happen. Shane was just worried about how they were going to keep the town safe. Tim had already moved around their schedules and put them on ten hour shifts as opposed their usual eight. Not knowing anything about the illness didn't help matters much either. There was a large cloud of perplexity surrounding the entire situation. Jennifer drummed her fingers against her thigh mindlessly, trying to keep the nagging thoughts at bay. With a long exhale she felt Shane's hand grip her free thigh. His warmth spread through her at just the right time. He gave a gentle squeeze and she looked up, watching the bulge form at his temple, his jaw clamped down. He didn't turn to look at her - he kept his eyes forward, the road winding ahead of them. He was afraid if she really took a moment to look at him that she would see he was fading.

Tim was less than pleased to see the deputies again so soon. When Shane had called him, he was angry. Everything seemed to hit the fucking fan at once. It was life and he was tired of its shit for the rest of the week. He stood on his porch, dressed in his pajamas, confused as to what was so important that the coroner, Paul, and Shane had both called him for. The poor man was clearly ready for bed, not a shocking discovery. He wasn't in work mode and the idea of something that would challenge the security of the town made him uneasy. He couldn't see why else they needed to meet now and why it couldn't wait until tomorrow. Shane scratched the back of his head and made eye contact with Jennifer as he shut the engine off in Tim's driveway. He tried to give her the smallest of smirks before climbing out of the car, Jennifer followed his lead shortly after. He reached for her hand as they neared the porch, unfazed by Tim's presence. He wasn't going to hide it this time. There was too much going on for him to worry about how Tim would feel about the situation. He just didn't care. Paul fumbled out of his car, trying to keep a handle on his briefcase as he walked to meet them. The four of them exchanged a short greeting before heading inside.

The house was immaculate inside, matching the outside perfectly. There was a strong scent of cinnamon and a variety of other spices, Tim's wife had a thing for candles. Most of the entryway and surrounding rooms were decorated with reds and browns, a lot of leathers and soft fabrics. Tim's wife was snuggled into the couch in the den area to the left of the entry way, caught up in a book. She gave a small wave and smile to the group before returning to it. It wasn't uncommon for Tim to have meetings at the house, and Tim had insisted she not worry and that it would be over soon enough. "We'll talk in the kitchen," Tim explained, waving for them to follow him through the house. They walked through the den and through a dining room before arriving in the kitchen. For Jennifer, it was all she could imagine for Terry's house, steel appliances, and a large marbled island in the center of the floor with one lonely glass of scotch sitting on it. Tim took a long drink before filling it up almost to the brim. They were all quiet for a moment, unsure of how to start the meeting. "So… what's goin' on?" Tim asked, unable to stand the silence for too long, holding himself on his hands against the island.

"Sir, the man that Deputy Walsh and Deputy Morgan dealt with yesterday has the illness that everyone's talking about on the news. I sent off the samples and received a call from the CDC earlier this evening. One of the doctors working on the case called me personally to tell me," the coroner spoke, handing some paperwork over to Tim. "He faxed this over to me after he analyzed the data. He says it's serious." Paul was a mousy man, tall and lanky with a large mustache that took up half of his face and glasses that occupied the other half. He pushed his glasses back up his nose while Tim flipped through some of the pages, mumbling to himself as he read. Shane shifted his weight back and forth, reaching for Jennifer's hand again. He rubbed a thumb against her bandages knuckles, unable to look in her direction. Both of them were scared and anxious, wanting immediate answers on what they were supposed to do. They needed to start making preparations as soon as possible, if there were any to be made.

"There's no mistake? They couldn't have accidentally mixed up the samples or somethin'?" Tim asked, tossing the papers onto the island. "I jus' don't see how this could have spread here. There hasn't been any mention of this thing hittin' Georgia."

"Actually, sir," Paul spoke, pushing his glasses up again. "There has…"

"How? _I_ wasn't briefed on it!" Tim argued back, borderline shouting. Nothing hurt worse than being told you were out of the loop, especially when it came to your job and a town's wellbeing. Jennifer swallowed hard, coming to a quick realization that none of this was good.

"It's being handled at a federal level. They don't want the state governments involved quite yet."

"There's an unknown sickness travelin' about the world an' it's hit _my_ town an' I don't have _clearance_ to learn what's goin' on with it?!" Tim shouted this time, his neck turning a striking shade of red. It was aggravating on his part. The fine line between the federal and state governments was a big enough headache for him on a daily basis and now he was dealing with a global issue in his town. Paul swallowed hard and glanced between three of them. "I'm callin' the Governor! This town is jus' as important as any other place. We have a right to know what's goin' on!" He rushed out of the room and returned moments later with his cell phone. He downed the scotch he filled up, dialing the number for the Governor at the same time. "Y'all go on an' sit in the dinin' room," he ordered with a wave. The group retreated to the dining room as ordered.

"Are you alright?" Shane asked, peering down at his partner, reaching for her hand again as they sat. Paul fumbled through his briefcase, reading through a copy of the notes that the doctor at the CDC had faxed him. He held the paper out at arm's length, mumbling as he read through the side effects and the transmission of how it was spreading. He couldn't quite understand most of the information on the pages himself, but he was hoping there would be something that would jump out at him if he read it enough. Jennifer nodded quickly, giving his hand a quick squeeze. He nodded back to her and took to interrogating Paul. "What're they callin' this thing anyway? They ain't been callin' it nothin' on the news."

"V56H," Paul replied, shifting uncomfortably in his chair under Shane's watchful gaze. His face was serious, hardened.

"I thought they had fancier names than that," Shane spoke, looking between Paul and Jennifer. Shane wasn't one for science high school, the teacher was hot enough to hold his attention in his daydreams and nowhere else. He barely remembered half the shit she said which is why he passed with a glorious F in the class. It was a blessing that it wasn't required for his job. How was one of the star football players supposed to concentrate in such a meaningless class?

"It hasn't been identified yet fully," Jennifer answered, her face matching the dejected tone of her voice. Unlike Shane, Jennifer had played plenty of attention in science. Paul nodded in agreeance.

"Fuck," Shane whispered, eyes enlarging.

"Yeah, fuck," Paul muttered in agreeance. "Fuck all around. And they don't have a cure or a vaccine worked out. _Nothing._ They don't even know how it spreads yet. They don't even know how this thing works." Jennifer swallowed hard. Suddenly, the trials she had been faced with as of late seemed so small in comparison to this. "They aren't trying to cause a panic quite yet because the incidents have been so isolated, but there's only so much you can cover up what with the media and everyone with a cell phone. Doctor Jenner told me that he would try to keep in touch as much as possible. He asked me to release the body to him, I sent it off with his people before coming over." He pulled his eyes back away from Shane's dark glare, studying the paperwork once more. He was terrified of Shane, having dealt with him more times than he could count with various cases over the years. Shane was everything Paul wished he could be: confident, strong, and good with the ladies.

"That ain't good enough," Shane bit back, his free hand forming a fist.

"Science only goes so fast. It's much harder to identify on a dead host. Imagine trying to study the way a human body works while the person is dead." Even Shane could understand that analogy. It was a lot harder to understand how something worked when it wasn't working to begin with. They were interrupted from their talk when they heard Tim yelling from the next room. The Governor told him he didn't have the clearance to know anything at this time and that he had nothing to concern himself with until otherwise. He walked into the dining room area, trying to keep himself calm while his superior chewed his ass for calling such a late hour on a Thursday night and that the next time he had any questions, he should call the Mayor first. Tim shouted a few obscenities into the phone for throwing it onto the dining room table. Jennifer jumped as the phone slipped across the slick top of the large cherry table, stopping just before hitting the floor. Shane stared at his boss with concern, wanting all of the facts as quickly as possible.

"That fuckin' asshole wouldn't know what to do with a damn shovel, let alone this fuckin' state. Whoever elected his ass should be _damn_ proud of the shit job he's done! It'll be his fault if we all catch this thing!" Tim shouted, punching a finger onto the table for emphasis. The Mayor spent most of his time drunk on a golf course somewhere in Georgia, leaving Tim to execute his order where necessary. There were only so many resources available to him. He didn't even know why he kept the job most of the time, but his undeniable need for control made it hard for him to let go. It was easy to be the man in charge when there was no man in charge to deal with. He had grown to like the control and the ability to make decisions on his own. It was like being Mayor with no big elections or campaigns. He was well respected in the town and everyone knew not to cross him. Everyone except for the Mayor, apparently.

"Dear, your blood pressure!" his wife called from the den. He closed his eyes momentarily, trying out some of the tension releasing exercises his anger management coach had taught him. After counting to ten twice he gave up, so much for paying 200$ a week for that. He shrugged his shoulders in defeat, holding himself up on the chair in front of him.

"Well," Tim spoke, clapping his hands together as he sat down at the head of the table. "We're all fucked until further notice. I don't have the consent to know anythin' about what's goin' on, so we're goin' to take as many precautions as possible."

"What kinds of precautions, sir?" Shane asked, leaning into the table a little more. Tim glanced down at Shane and Jennifer's hands linked together for the first time, a ghost of a smirk on his face. That's what all the awkwardness surrounding their meeting in his office was about. He had been right about his instinct, but he didn't have the time to worry about it. He needed to take matters into his own hands.

"We're goin' to have a health fair in the gym at the high school tomorrow to talk about hand washing an' how to prevent the spread of disease. We'll have an information booth set up about the doctors in the area an' a small clinic for anyone who wants to be seen. It will give us a chance to look people over for any signs of infection, too. We can quarantine anyone who we spot to be a little _off_." Tim ran his hands through his hair. He looked at the three other faces occupying his table, hoping that they were all just as serious about stopping this thing as he was. He needed as many behind him as possible for his plans to work. "Anyone can chime in at any time!" Paul shuffled his papers he was still glancing through and shoved them into his already overfilling briefcase, grunting as he squeezed the clips on the front of it shut.

"I think it's great," Jennifer muttered with a short nod of approval. They had to do something. "We could tell people about it tomorrow when we're on patrol." Tim raised an eyebrow at her and folded his arms across his chest. He nodded after a time, feeling satisfied with the plan they had put into place. It was hard to prepare for something when you didn't know what exactly it was you were fighting.

"We'll try to deal with this for as long as we can," Tim explained. "No one else in town will hear about our situation until I say so. This will cause a panic an' the last thing we need around here is a panic. We've already got officers shot an' in the hospital. That's amped up the fear factor enough on its own. We stay quiet."

 

* * *

 

A week passed without incident. There weren't any unusual calls. No domestic cases or shootings. Nothing out of the ordinary happened. Shane and Jennifer continued to spend as much as they could together, wrapped up in each other on their nights off. Their evenings became routine, after work they would head to the hospital, visit Rick and Casey, and then head back to one of their places for dinner and sex before collapsing into sleep. Hansen had returned to town, his sister in tow. He was unable to stay in the city much longer and his sister's anxiety was getting worse with all of the intense media about the sick people cropping up around the world. He thought getting out into the country would help ease her fear. Tim wasted no time putting Hansen back into action. Tim allowed Hansen's sister to accompany him on patrols during the day, bearing that he had no calls in that time period. It allowed Hansen to earn a paycheck and watch after his sister at the same time. The health fair that Tim arranged worked out great for the townsfolk. The attendance rate was at 60% of the population. Tim thought that adding in a free meal would help increase the numbers and he was right when it did. His yearly budget hurt after the expense, it was going to cost him another year without an air conditioner in his office, but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make. Everything was running smoothly. No one was sick, the town was calm and running just as it usually did. Tim was satisfied.

Casey crutched his way to the curb in front of the hospital. Megan was picking him up in their rented SUV for their trip. She had picked up a few shifts at the bar and was able to rent the SUV after all. Casey groaned, pausing on the sidewalk to look at Jennifer. She smiled weakly at her friend, biting back any and all tears that threatened to fall. He held himself up on his crutches and held his arms out the best could, allowing her to wrap herself around him. She squeezed him, face buried in his police t-shirt. Casey was still tottering on whether or not to it was okay to leave Jennifer alone. She insisted that Shane was taking care of her. He believed it, but it was hard to accept that his best friend was needing less and less of his help. Casey and Megan planned to be gone for two weeks total. Megan had an itinerary planned out for each day which did nothing but send Casey's eyes rolling at the sheer mention of it. He wanted to enjoy himself, not abide by some strict pre-planned schedule. "Are you sure you're going to be okay?" Casey asked her for about the twentieth time since they had walked outside of the hospital.

"I'm sure," she told him with a smile. For the first time in a long time she felt confident about it. She knew Casey needed a break from work and from his normal life, especially after everything that had happened. It felt like the chains of her past were slowing starting to detach themselves from the hooks they had welded to in her back, she could feel the light and airy feeling of happiness. It was satisfying feeling. She wasn't planning on letting it go anytime soon. Casey smiled, dropping one crutch to wrap his arm around her.

"You call me at any time. I don't give a shit what that fancy ass schedule says on it," Casey spoke. She could feel his voice in her chest, her body still pinned against his. "I want you to call me at least once a day, you hear me?" He was sure if she didn't he would lose his mind anyway. He and Megan had spent so much time together while he was in the hospital, it was truly testing their relationship in ways he hadn't expected.

"Yes, _mom_ ," she teased.

"Where's your boyfriend?" Casey asked, squinting around the sidewalk to see if he could find anyone he noticed.

"He's not my boyfriend, Casey," she corrected him, pulling away.

"Yes, well damn near close enough."

"He's upstairs with Rick and Lori." He nodded, turning to Megan as she exited the front of the hospital, Casey's hospital bags in tow. It was mind boggling for him to think about how much shit he had actually acquired during his stay in the hospital, between gifts from people, his clothes, and grooming items. She huffed as she walked to the car. Jennifer jogged over and helped her open the doors that made up the trunk. She breathed out a thank you as they shuffled things around to make room for the rest of Casey's things. Wiping the sweat from her forehead on the back of her hand she smiled at her friend, hoping that she knew just how much she would be missed while she was gone.

"Keep an eye out on the mail, we're gonna send ya somethin'," Megan advised as they closed the trunk up. Jennifer's lips quirked up at this. She rarely received mail unless it was a bill or some form of junk mail. The bills came a lot more frequently than the junk mail did. Megan pulled her into a hug, catching Jennifer off guard. "I'm gonna miss you." She held Jennifer tightly around the shoulders. Her hair blanketed her face, tickling at her nose. Jennifer held back a sneeze, patting her shoulder in a gentle, friendly manner. The women had forgotten about Casey momentarily, leaving him to stand without being able to move as his crutch still laid on the ground. Megan gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and rushed over to help Casey pick up his crutch.

"You guys left a crippled man over here with only _one_ crutch," Casey teased, taking the crutch from Megan as she tried to open the backseat door at the same time.

"You better watch yourself, babe, I'm drivin' remember?"

"And I never did get my dose of Ativan before I left. You think it's too late to go back in and ask?" His nose wrinkled as he spoke. Megan threw a light punch to his upper arm, earning a whine from Casey.

"Jus' get in the car," she quipped, rolling her eyes. Casey pressed one of his crutches into his side and pulled Jennifer in for a quick side hug, kissing the top of her head.

"Behave while I'm gone."

"Anything else, mom?"

"Keep using condoms." She groaned and rolled her eyes, slapping his stomach with the back of her hand.

"Get out of here before I fucking hurt you," she warned, watching him turn backwards to pull himself into the backseat. He smiled weakly at her before using his arms to hoist his body onto the leather seats. After scooting all the way back to get his casted leg completely on the backseat, Megan stuffed his crutches onto the floorboards and shut his door. She blew a kiss in Jennifer's direction and headed for the driver's seat. "Be careful! And drive safe!" she shouted, folding her arms across her chest. Megan called back that they would and that they would call as soon as they arrived. The engine started and she honked as she pulled out of the loading zone in front of the hospital. She watched them as they drove away, unable to tame the nagging bad feelings associated with the entire ordeal. It wasn't like he was leaving forever. He would be back soon enough. She swallowed hard and waved at the car, standing in the same spot even after it was well out of sight. She glanced down at the watch on her wrist and sighed before sitting on a wooden bench near the entrance. She wasn't sure she could handle watching Lori cry over Rick. Shane had convinced her to come up with him a few days ago and they had accidentally walked in on Lori. It was something Jennifer wished she could forget. Her throat was still raw from the mere thought of a tube down her throat.

An hour passed and Jennifer continued to sit on the bench alone, watching some of the people that walked passed. Harrison Memorial Hospital was small in size, being the only hospital for King County. She smiled as some people greeted her by name, tipping their hat to her or giving her a small wave. Her popularity was growing among the people, seeing as she was arriving on more calls and being seen on patrol with Shane. It felt like she had finally made it somewhere. People were respecting her, she was doing the work she loved and everything was under control. It was serene. Hansen plopped down onto the bench next to her, giving her his dimple exposing grin of his, chewing loudly on a piece of gum. "What are you doing?" Hansen asked, folding his arms as he leaned back on the bench with her.

"Enjoying silence," she quipped back, folding her arms, mirroring his position.

"Aw, I haven't been back for a week yet and you're already teasing me for bothering you," he teased back with a shove. She smiled and ducked her head. "Shane upstairs?"

"Yes."

"How bad is it?" Hansen hadn't had the time to see Rick yet. His sister, Becky, was growing more and more dependent on his presence. He had finally found a way to dump her off on one of younger officers, bargaining that he would buy him drinks for a week at the bar if he obliged and took Becky off of his hands for a while. Being free of her for a few hours meant that he could visit Rick and his friends without having to worry about his sister and her awkward new social anxiety that she had acquired. It was hard on him and Jennifer could tell.

"It's pretty bad. Lori's up there now, I'd wait until she leaves to go up and see him." Hansen nodded, popping his gum loudly. There was a rumbling in the distance, a storm threatening to roll in. Jennifer was excited. It had been a month since the last good storm had rolled through. She and Shane had the night off meaning they would have the time to actually enjoy it.

"That bad, huh?"

"That bad."

"Y'all ever find out what happened to that man that you guys had to shoot?" There was a lot of talk between the deputies about Shane and Jennifer's run in. Under Tim's command they had to remain quiet, but the police report spoke for itself. It was hard not to tell that something wasn't quite right by reading through it. Hansen had been out of the loop for a while and had just had the chance to read it. He knew that nothing added up about the story. Jennifer shook her head and twisted her watch around her watch a few times, trying to avoid his gaze, afraid if she made eye contact that everything would come spilling out. "I heard you and Shane have been busy though." This comment earned a smirk from her. She shook her head, trying to fight the blush that threatened to creep onto her cheeks.

"Don't believe everything you hear."

"The whole town's talking about it," he teased.

"How was Atlanta?" she asked, quirking her head up to look at him. He shook his head, staring out into the parking lot in front of the hospital.

"Atlanta was a lot to deal with," he spoke through a sigh. "My sister is a lot to deal with." Jennifer patted his shoulder knowingly. "I'd give anything to have her back to herself. She barely lets me shower alone. The door has to be open and she has to be within earshot." Hearing this reminded her of the times with Casey when she was at her lowest. After their friendship formed it was hard for her to believe he was real on some nights. She would barely let him out of her sight before believing he was truly there.

"It'll get better with time," she advised, patting him again before removing her hand.

 

"Jesus I hope so. There's no hope for me dating anytime soon if she keeps this up," he laughed. She smiled weakly, dipping her head down. She still hadn't answered Shane's question about them dating. Shane was content on keeping things as they were. Casey had pressured him again about not pushing the issue and being patient before he let, having a heart to heart there in the middle of the hallway alone. He and Jennifer had been out to dinner plenty of times in the last week with no mention of their conversation. Jennifer was equally just as happy completely ignoring any need for a label to put on what was going on between them. Labels had ruined a lot of things for them in the past. Both of them feared the instant they put a label on it that things would fall to hell. The rumbling of thunder broke Jennifer from her thoughts. "Sounds like it's going to be a big one," he commented, watching the quick flash of lightening in the distance.

"I'd be nice if it was."

"I agree, makes for an easy night on call. Something about the storms calm the people around here." Jennifer's ears perked up.

"That's right, you're on call tonight with Tiffany. How does it feel to be back with your old partner?"

"It's like coming home," he answered with a grin. "I have never been more happy to see that little pistol in my life. I hope she hasn't forgotten all of my little quirks since I've been gone."

"I'm sure she hasn't," Jennifer insisted. They had been partners for over a year with no breaks, with the exception of Hansen's family leave. Tiffany hadn't been able to stop talking about Hansen coming back since he left. Jennifer knew how she felt. There was so much to a partnership, it was hard to explain to someone. It was like a brotherhood and a friendship wrapped up in one. It was beginning to happen with her and Shane, their movements becoming more and more predictable between the two of them. It was as if they had been spending the last year as partners instead of the last few weeks.

"Anything else weird happen while I was gone? Aside from you and Shane getting a little friendly?" he teased with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

"I'll fuck you up in front of all of these people, Hansen. I promise I will," she deadpanned, leaning onto her knees with her elbows. He laughed hard, slapping her back as he rose.

"Just make sure my nurse is hot if you decide to take action on that threat, Morgan." She repressed the snort sitting in her throat and smiled, shaking his hand as he walked into the hospital.

 

* * *

 

We were in the middle of dinner when the call came in. Shane had cooked steak for Terry and I while I helped Terry patch up a new hole in the ceiling in the kitchen. That hole in the roof had finally gotten to the point that it was leaking through to the ceiling of the next level of the house. I was covered in drywall and tired, my arms aching from having to hold them in place while Terry nailed the new piece of drywall into place. Shane had told us that we were wasting our time with it, that the hole in the roof was just going to open it up again, and we both knew that, but it was a lot easier to fix than the roof when it was raining outside. The storm had finally rolled in and was dropping an intense amount of water on our poor little farmhouse. "Tomorrow, I'm going to get up there and fix it," I insisted, trying to roll out the knot that formed in my shoulder.

"Like hell you will, it's gonna be rainin' like this for the next two days," Terry quipped, handing me a beer. I groaned at the thought of having to patch up the ceiling again so soon. The three of us sat down at the small dining room table, listening to The Doors on Terry's record player before the call came in. Hansen was frantic. I had never heard him so scared before. He was yelling into the radio for someone to come and help him, yelling that someone had grabbed Tiffany and bit her neck and that he was trapped in his police car. I swallowed a large chunk of steak as Shane glared at me from over the table.

 

* * *

 

"We gotta go," I ordered, sliding back from the table in such a hurry that my chair fell over. Jennifer was right on my tail as we ran out to the squad car. I pulled my gun out of my jeans as I stood on the porch, sliding the magazine out to count my ammunition. Jennifer did the same, pushing it back into place, giving me that wide eyed look of hers. "It's gonna be okay," I told her before putting the safety on and running out into the rain. She followed behind, throwing herself into her spot on the passenger's side. I shook the rain from my shirt as I sat in the driver's seat. We were both drenched from the rain. "Get his location." She didn't say a word as she tried to reach him on his radio, calling for him to respond. Hansen's shouting filled the car as he spoke. He was cussing, screaming about how much blood Tiffany was losing and that the two men were pounding on the windows. The men outside of his car had both been shot about five times, but showed no signs of injury. I cussed and started the engine, revving it before taking off, the sirens blaring. She gave me another worried look and I patted her leg. "It's probably jus' a bunch'a fuckin' goons up out in the country. They have a real knack for tryin' to scare us from time to time." Hansen yelled for us through the radio and I stomped on the gas pedal even harder.

"Be careful!" Jennifer hissed, holding onto the dashboard as I drove us around another turn in the road. The windshield wipers were on full blast, thudding frantically back and forth across the large window. We pulled up on the squad car with two men on the outside, pounding on the windows. I swallowed hard and left the engine running. The men turned as I parked the car, fumbling towards us in the mud. I turned the safety off of my gun and opened the door, using it was a shield and as a stabilizer to take a shot at the man coming towards me. He looked almost exactly like the man from that night in town, his clothes bloodied and dirty, a stiff, angry growl rolling from his throat. I ordered him to drop down to the ground and he just kept moving straight for me, his mouth open. I gritted my teeth and took a shot at his leg. He didn't even fumble. Jennifer yelled at the man approaching her, her door opened, her stance mimicking mine. My eyes danced between the two of them and Jennifer wasted no time, immediately putting a bullet into the head of the man approaching her. I refocused on the man lurching in my direction. Jennifer yelled and took another shot, dropping him in a second. I turned to look at her and she had a grave look on her face. I held onto my gun tightly and approached Hansen's squad car with apprehension.

"Get out!" I shouted over the thunder and the rain, my gun trained on the driver's side door. I kept my distance with the body on the ground, trying to keep my focus on whatever may be inside the car. Hansen opened the door slowly, his arms up, a fearful look on his face.


	14. Chapter 14

**Okay so I know I said somewhere before that this wouldn't be a fluffy story, but there's some fluff in here. It's not outlandish or anything, I just think that before shit starts to hit the fan again that there should be some fluff. I think it will kind of help further their relationship as well.**

**I will edit x1 before posting then fix the rest later.**

 

**11/17/16 -edits**

 

* * *

 

 

**CHAPTER**

**FOURTEEN**

 

 

* * *

I had never had the privilege of being in a morgue before that night. Privilege is probably the worst fucking description I could use for what it felt like being in there. I don't know how else to explain how miserable it was. Hansen and I sat in the waiting room area while Shane was in the back with Paul. We were both covered in blood. Tiffany died. The men who attacked them were dead and they both had the virus. The light in Hansen's eyes was gone. He was hunched over, his elbows resting on his knees, his eyes staring straight ahead at something I couldn't see. I jumped when Tim barged through the front door of Paul's cramped office, his face more serious than I had ever seen it. He was wearing a sweat suit that I was assuming he had just thrown on before leaving the house. It was almost midnight. "Where the fuck are they?" he yelled at me, looking down the open door that lead to the morgue. Paul assured all of us that this was a typical stage in the way the disease worked, that Tiffany was legally dead at the moment until she 'reanimated' as the sick version of herself. It was all really fucked up. Reanimated? Dead? He promised us he would explain it later in better detail, but I wasn't sure I wanted to know how it worked. It was hard enough to watch.

"In the back," I muttered. I couldn't handle seeing their bodies. It was too fucking much. Shane appeared in the doorway where Tim was staring and waved him to the back. We made brief eye contact and he disappeared again. It was quiet for a moment before Tim started shouting again. I swallowed and rubbed my hands down my legs, unsure of what to do. Hansen glanced over in my direction and sighed. "I can drive you home if you want. We don't need to sit out here and listen to that." Tim shouted again and there was a crash. I scrambled to stand up and listened to the familiar growling come from the back room. At this point I was running down the short hallway to the large room where Shane, Tim, and Paul stood, watching Tiffany, who was supposed to be dead, struggle to rise up from the gurney she was strapped to. Paul said this would happen, but to actually see it? There were no words to describe it. I swallowed hard, the spit getting stuck in my throat. She started to make a sickening chomping sound with her teeth, her eyes darting between the four of us. I grabbed Shane's hand and squeezed. Paul took a step closer to her and Tim shouted at him.

"Don't be fuckin' stupid," Shane quipped as Paul took another step towards her. Paul had warned us how it was spread. By being bitten or scratched by someone who was infected. Like a sophisticated form of rabies. Tiffany's arms flailed out in his direction. He spoke calmly to her, his palms facing her. She continued to chomp at him, the audible snap of her teeth clanking together filled the entire room. Tim yelled out another order for Paul to stop. Shane's grip on my hand tightened. I wanted to look up to him for security, but couldn't take my eyes away from Tiffany. Anxiety wrecked my nerves, I reached down for my gun and before I could wrap my fingers around it, there was a loud bang and Tiffany went silent. Hansen stood in the doorway behind us, his gun raised, the blank expression still on his face. He lowered his gun, a broken sob escaping his mouth as he holstered his gun.

"That illness is spreading, isn't it?" Hansen asked, borderline hysterical. He was crying, fumbling to snap the holster closed around his gun. "That shit followed me here."

"Hey, now, this wasn't your doin'," Shane spoke, taking a step towards Hansen. "Ain't nothin' that done this but that illness. You didn't do shit." Hansen shook his head and rubbed his face, grimacing as he looked at Tiffany's body.

"I can't stay here," he muttered, turning on his heel to stalk out of the morgue. Shane turned to follow him and I stayed with Paul and Tim, the three of us not daring to look at each other. I had no idea what to say. It was one thing to have an isolated incident, but to have two guys attack at once... I think we all knew it was a lot more serious than the Governor was trying to let on. Hansen came back to work to try and help us out and just after settling back into patrols, he had to shoot his partner. I couldn't even imagine having to shoot Casey or Shane in the head. I would cut my own fucking arm off first. There was no way to fix this. No words were going to make this okay. Tiffany didn't have a family that I knew of, but it didn't matter. Someone needed to know. Someone had to tell someone. I folded my arms across my chest and tried to focus. There was still the matter of the security of the town, that was more important right now. If this didn't get handled there would be even more deaths and even more people that needed to hear bad news and I didn't need that...

"What do you want to do, Tim?" I asked, finally bringing myself to look at him.

"Curfew. We're gonna start a curfew tomorrow. Nobody on the streets after 6pm except for officers. All stores that are open for 24 hours will be closed. We're puttin' this city on lock down. If we can't get any answers, we're gonna go off the grid," Tim answered.

"What about Linden County?"

"What about them?" he scoffed.

"Have they had any of this?" I asked, gesturing to Tiffany and the two body bags on tables beside her.

"I don't fuckin' care. An' I don't want to know. We have this town to protect. As of right now all officers are active duty. I don't care if they don't even know what proper protocols are. We're passed that now." I nodded and moved to help Paul cover up Tiffany's body with a clean white sheet that I knew didn't have a snowball's chance in hell in staying that white. The second it touched her wounds, the blood seeped into the cloth. Tim ran his hands through his hair and shook his head. "No one leaves or comes into this city without my approval."

"That's about impossible to control, Tim. We don't have enough people to post at every street that leads into town," I spoke after a moment. It was awkward to be doing my job without my utility belt. I went to place my hands there and felt a strange sense of anxiety when my hands met my hips instead. It took me a second to remember that I was in street clothes still. Tim's face screwed up as we made eye contact. I really didn't want to argue, but I knew that his plan wasn't feasible, even if we had everyone in the precinct out doing what he wanted. There were too many streets and too many ways for people to still get into town.

"I want a blockade coming in off the highway and one on the route from Linden County. I want everyone inspected and approved by me, a list of who comes in and leaves." I ran a hand down my face, already knowing what the stress of the next week was going to bring. It was going to be hell. There were going to be so many questions from everyone about what was going on. Chaos. Just complete and utter fucking chaos. Terry was going to have to wait on the roof work for another few days. There wouldn't be enough time to jam it into my schedule. "I'll call you and Shane in the mornin'. I'm goin' the fuck back to bed," he snapped, turning on his heel to leave. I followed him outside through the morgue to the short stretch of sidewalk where Shane and Hansen side by side, elbows resting on their knees. It was still raining like mad, but the small awning in front of the building was able to stave off most of the rain on the sidewalk.

* * *

"He said he'd call us in the morning," Jennifer spoke as she plopped down beside Shane. He gave her a short, tight lipped smile when he felt her snuggle into his side a little closer. Unable to resist, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Hansen pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it up instantly. "I didn't know you smoked," she stated, peering past Shane to look at him.

"I don't," he replied, sucking in as much of it as he could at once. "I just started," he coughed, smoking billowing out of his mouth. Jennifer knew all too much about resorting to unusual habits during grief. She couldn't even imagine having Shane die in front of her. Hansen coughed through another inhale of his cigarette, keeping his head low. "This fucking year sucks," he mumbled, staring at the bright orange tip of his new coping device.

"It's been pretty fucked up," Shane agreed. He was ready to do whatever the universe wanted him to in order for it to stop. He wanted it to just wait. He had just gotten Jennifer. Was it so wrong for him to want time to spend with her? After all it had taken him just to get through to her, it seemed like it was one disaster after another. Jennifer laid her head on his shoulder and watched the rain pick up again, thunder rumbled in the distance. So much for their night off, spending it on the porch watching the storm with a glass of whiskey. They had it all planned out and now, they were spending it with Hansen in front of the morgue.

"Do you guys mind taking over on calls tonight? I just don't think I can do it," said Hansen, looking over at him and Jennifer. Shane nodded to him, clapping him on the shoulder once with his free hand. Hansen smirked and looked at the couple beside him. "It's about fucking time you two got your heads out of your asses. May I be the first one to say that?" Hansen teased, releasing a steady stream of smoke from his mouth. "Tiffany and I both knew it was bound to happen at some point. Just a matter of time." Jennifer narrowed her eyes at him, giving him the look he expected when he said something she didn't like. "Both of you were so damn miserable. You don't look like that anymore." Jennifer exhaled and relaxed herself against Shane again, reveling in how it felt to feel safe and protected… cared for. She wasn't familiar with how any of it.

"What does Tim want us to do?" Shane asked, resting his chin against the top of her head.

"He wants everyone in the precinct to be put into action. Everyone is going to patrol or have some other kind of job. He wants people at certain areas to monitor who is coming into town." She felt and heard him sigh. "I told him it wasn't doable, but he thinks it is."

"I don't know who the fuck he thinks we are," Shane muttered. Rick would stand up for them if he was awake. He wouldn't let Tim stretch out their resources like that. He wouldn't let his fellow officers suffer. "Some people in that office have never even held a fuckin' gun."

"I'll help you teach them tomorrow. Everyone is gonna know basic safety tips and how to fire before they're let loose on the street," Hansen added.

"It's nice to have you back, Hansen," Shane told him, sincere. It had been a rough couple of weeks and to have someone else in his corner was nice. It was nice to have someone to rely on with Rick gone. He didn't realize how much he truly depended on Rick until he wasn't able to do it anymore. Jennifer had been a nice replacement and now with Casey gone, he suspected she would need him even more than she had previously. And for the first time, he realized, he didn't actually mind feeling like someone needed him.

"It's fucking nice to be back." He snubbed his cigarette out on the sidewalk and smoothed the front of his uniform down. "I should get home to Becky. It was already all I could do to convince her to stay home alone tonight." Hansen was glad she hadn't been in the car when the attack happened. There was no telling what kind of shape she would be in after seeing that. Borderline mute is the most he could imagine. Not that she was far off from that now. He stood up and waved a hand at both of them before climbing in to the extra squad car Jennifer had picked up for him to drive home. The couple gave him a nod to bid their farewell to him. Shane kissed the top of her head as Hansen drove off, kicking up rain as he went.

"You wanna go home?" Shane asked, rubbing his hand down her back.

"It's kind of nice watching the rain," she admitted with a smile. "I've been waiting for it to storm."

"Yeah, ya have," he laughed, attempting to pull her even closer.

"Shane…" thoughts of what they had witnessed seemed to keep coming up, not allowing her to think of much else. It was a lot to take in. Tiffany was gone. There had been another attack. Casey wasn't there. What if something had happened to her and Shane was left to deal with it? He would have no one around to help him through it with Rick in the state he was in. She bit down on her lip and sat up, wanting to look Shane in the face. "If that happens to me, promise me you won't be sad."

"What're ya talkin' about?" he asked, pushing stray hair away from her face.

"If I die…" she paused. "Promise me you won't be sad."

"Why are you talkin' like this, Jen?"

"Hansen and Tiffany. I just. I just want to make sure you won't be sad."

"Jen, I don't know how I couldn't be sad."

"Whiskey," she told him with a smile and a short laugh. "Whiskey will help."

"I don't know if you can ask me not to be sad about that."

"Why?"

"Are you fuckin' kiddin' me right now?" he asked, seriousness starting to set into his expression, chasing the trails of grief that still remained. "What do ya mean, _why_?"

"Why would be so hard for you to not be sad?"

"You're my fuckin' partner, Jen. We've been through a lot together. We've done other things too, ya know? I mean, the list is pretty damn long, wouldn't you say so?" She felt guilt, it was a stupid question to ask, and the timing was just fucked. Their bodies were so close, she could feel his heat. The way he was talking to her… the smell of wood on his breath, she sighed and kissed him, unable to stop herself. He softened the minute their lips met. Pulling her to his chest, he kissed her back, taking her breath with the movement. His mouth parted and hers followed shortly after, the taste of him made her groan in frustration. She pulled back. "How could I not be sad?" he spoke, softly, her mouth just inches from his. His eyes searched hers for the answer, wanting to know how he was supposed to feel if she was gone. He wasn't sure if he could handle it so soon. There was still so much he wanted to do with her. He wanted her to meet his Grandma, he wanted to make her happy, he wanted her to know that he was stuck on her… Jennifer swallowed hard. He didn't know of a time when he wanted a woman to do those things with him.

"What did you say?" she replied.

"How could I not be sad?" he repeated, pushing imaginary hair from the side of her face. "Jen, I would be an absolute mess." She smiled, reaching up to run her hand through his thick, dark hair. No one had said anything to her in the ways he did. Maybe it was the rain or the way his hand seemed to melt through her clothes and seer her skin with his touch… but her soul felt free, actual happiness filling her bones with a warm gooey feeling. Resting her head against his shoulder, she wrapped her arms around his chest. Shane followed her motions, wrapping her in the same fashion, satisfied with the feeling of her weight flush against him. They sat in that position for a while, listening to the sounds of the rain hitting the concrete.

"We should get back home before Terry throws our food into the refrigerator. I don't like reheated meat," she whispered, her nose crunching up at her ending statement. He kissed the top of her head again before she rose up from his lap. Jennifer stretched, her hoodie raising up just enough to pull her shirt free from her skin. Biting down on his lip Shane rubbed the soft bit of skin there, sending an involuntary laugh from Jennifer's lips. Laughing she slapped his hand, jumping back of shock.

"I didn't know that you were ticklish here," he spoke through a grin, raising his hand to touch her again.

"Yes," she quipped, batting his hand away. "Extremely! Do! Not!" she warned, pointing at him as his eyebrow raised, hand still outstretched to touch her again.

"Aw, Jen," he pouted, pulling his hand back for a moment.

"Walsh! I will hurt you!" she screeched as he rose from his position. He laughed, chasing her to the back end of the concrete still beneath the awning. "Shane!" she whined, inches away from the rain at her back.

"What?" he teased, his face boyish and innocent.

"I don't like that look!" she whined. "It looks exactly like the kind of – " she screamed when he lunged for her, her legs carrying her out in the rain, away from Shane's searching hands. He chased her to the cruiser, her hands fumbling with the handle of the door as he snuck up behind her. She screeched again through a laugh, her hands slipping as she tried to jerk the door open again. He landed with a thud behind her, his hands on the car of the door on either side of her. Her hands wrapped around his waist as she turned, her face nuzzling the side of his jaw. Jennifer placed a kiss there and Shane sighed, unable to resist the urge to touch her any longer, he released one hand from the car, splaying the other one across her back to hold her in place. She kissed her way to his mouth, an involuntary sigh escaping when her lips met his.

"Exactly like the kinda what?" he whispered when she pulled away, shifting her weight so that he would release her just a little.

"What?" she whispered back.

"Ya didn't finish what you were yellin' about," he teased through a smirk.

"Oh, you look exactly like trouble," she murmured, blushing.

"Do I?" She bit down on her lip and nodded. She had never been more sure about it. Shane Walsh was definitely trouble. The kind of trouble you could see screaming down the street with sirens and lights so bright you could see them through your eyelids. The truck running straight for Jennifer had Shane's face on the hood, the driver had his head out of the window, screaming that the truck wasn't stopping and Jennifer made no attempt to get out of its way. She let it stay on its course, threatening to knock her straight on her ass. There would be no turning away now, she knew it.

"Yes." He smirked and placed a quick kiss on her forehead. He unlocked the car for her and helped opened the door. She slipped into the car, completely soaked from standing out in the rain. Shane fell into the seat next to her and started the engine. He drove them back to Terry's unable to hide the smirk on his face.

* * *

"What the hell is goin' on?!" Deputy Lawson yelled from the back of the precinct office. "This is bullshit! I don't wanna be on the street with fuckin' Jim Houston in accountin' knowin' that fuck ain't used a gun damn near _ever_!" The seasoned officers were not comfortable with knowing their fellow office workers were going to be on the streets with them for a long list of reasons. Shane stood in front of them with Tim and Jennifer. Jennifer held her hands on her utility belt, her face stern. Tim shook his head and thought about the flask in his suit jacket, wondering how inappropriate it would be to drink in front of everyone. Surely they had all seen worse?

"This is not negotiable!" Tim shouted at the crowded room of deputies and office workers. "This is serious! Somethin' is goin' on around the world, people! It's threatenin' us! Breathin' right down on our fuckin' necks! We gotta stop this now!"

"What the hell are you talking about!?" another voice chimed in. Shane cast a glare to where he thought the voice came from. Jennifer continued to scan the group, staring down Hansen in the corner who was slumped over a desk with his aviators on, cigarette hanging from his mouth.

"This virus that they keep talkin' about on the news!" Tim yelled, holding his hands up to calm the round of random of shouting and chatter that ignited among the entire group. "I need y'all to shut your fuckin' mouths for a minute so I can please!" he yelled. The chatter continued and he stared among his officers, just as frustrated by the entire situation. If he had his way there wouldn't be any damn virus. There would be an actual Mayor that would do his goddamn job. "I can tell y'all if ya _shut up_!" His yelling ran through the group in a wave, sweeping silence across the room. "That illness on the news is hittin' at home, folks. It's serious. That's why I called this meetin'. Two infected men killed Deputy Mann last night. Deputy Hansen was with her." All eyes shifted to the usually smiling and cheerful Deputy Ryan Hansen, who's face was serious, eyes set on something off in the corner of the room. He yanked his aviators off and blinked, turning to look at the group.

"It's the truth," Hansen spoke, his eyes closing. "What they're talking about is true," he mumbled. "I was on patrol with her last night and we saw it. Two men were reported messing around near the street a few miles outside of town. Tiffany and I went out to inspect and they attacked us. They – fuckin – " he stopped for a moment, his jaw clenching to hold his tears back. "They fucking bit her on the neck." Whispers popped up between some of the officers. Hansen put his aviators back on and inhaled, quick and sharp, hoping to stop the tears. "She went to sleep an about an hour later and then she – " He stopped again and looked over at Jennifer. She made eye contact and gave him a nod, urging him to continue. "She woke up – really sick. She was going to bite the coroner." Tim nodded in his direction this time, turning his direction to some of the deputies standing closest to him.

"We need to act now. We need to put a curfew in place an' start keepin' track of who an' what is comin' into this town. We can't afford not to," Tim spoke. Questions rose in all directions, just an immediate stream of guessing. "I'll address you all tonight at the meetin'. I urge you to bring all of your families an' tell everyone you know," he shouted, waving his hands before stepping out into the hallway that lead to the garage. Jennifer broke away from the group with Shane as a crowd of people ascended on Hansen to ask him questions. Shane sighed and turned, keeping a watchful eye on anyone who threatened to come after Tim. Jennifer turned to watch as well, her shoulder in the way of Tim's path.

"We need to make a plan for what to do when shit gets out of control," Jennifer spoke, not looking at him.

"Not right now," Tim insisted, shaking his head.

"We need to think about it," she hissed.

"We need to think about how to get through this week, _princess_. One week at a time," he barked, pushing past her shoulder. Her eyes snapped over as he walked out the door, heading for his car. Jennifer stood in the doorway with Shane at her back, watching as he started his engine and pulled out of the garage.

"What are we supposed to do?" she asked, turning to look at her partner.

"We'll make a plan," he promised, raising her jaw to meet his face fully. "We will make it together without Tim."

"Shane – " he rubbed a thumb across the lower part of her chin and shook his head.

"Tim doesn't know what some of these men would do for me, regardless of his orders." She bit down on her lip and nodded, adjusting the belt around her hips.

"We need to get ready for safety class," she insisted, breaking her gaze to look down the hall behind Shane. The seasoned officers were to teach small groups of 5 at a time while Jennifer and Shane showed them how to fire their weapons in the gun range attached to the precinct. They were to teach them basic aiming techniques and stance. It was a lot more work than either one was expecting. Most of the people in the office had no idea that there was a certain way to stand when firing and that no, most guns are not fired while holding it sideways like in the movies. They spent the day doing this before assigning groups to the different patrol schedules and routes that they were to take. The first curfew was going to start that night and they were to make sure everyone was at the town hall meeting that Tim had scheduled. There was too much shit to do and not enough time...

* * *

The town hall meeting went terribly wrong. A lot of the people that showed up became panicked at the news and a small group left immediately after Tim told them what was happening. Jennifer hung her head as she listened to the panicked tones in the voices around her. The officers were standing in front of that stage that Tim was standing on, acting as a blockade against the crowd in case they got out of control. Shane was at her side, his hand wrapped firmly in hers, his eyes scanning the crowd, face serious, jaw set. Tim continued to speak and after a few hours passed, he called the meeting to a close. The officers escorted people from the hall, leaving Shane and Jennifer in the middle of the floor alone. He turned to look at her as Tim walked over to them.

"Well, that fuckin' sucked," Tim growled, shifting his weight as he stood before them.

"You think people are going to leave?" Jennifer asked.

"I don't know," he answered honestly. He was sure at least a small population would.

"What are we going to do if it gets worse?"

" _I don't know_ ," he repeated in a sadder tone.


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's note: Shit is about to hit the fan. :/ I really don't want it to, but the plot goes nowhere without it. Not sure if it'll be next chapter or the one after that it hits... haven't quite worked all the kinks out for the next few chapters yet. Thank you guys so, so, much! :) No edits yet... I did one really half assed read through before posted it, will edit later tonight.**

* * *

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

* * *

Jennifer and Shane sat in the squad car, staring at the small station that Tim had put in place with four cones in street and two officers. The officers at this particular outpost had been office workers and only one of them was experienced with a firearm and knew how to communicate with civilians. They had been given a list of answers to any potential questions and a list of what to look for in regards to the illness. Jennifer was worried that the short hour long class about gun safety hadn't been long enough. Shane insisted it was okay and promised her that the officers had more common sense than she realized. It had been a few days since Tim had put his action into plan. About a quarter of the population had left town. Most people were rightfully scared, unable to understand what was happening. A statement had been made on the news said that no one was to travel between the states until further notice due to the overwhelming amount of new cases that had popped up in the United States, it was an order from the President. Casey was stuck with Megan in Kitty Hawk. He was even more frustrated than usual when Jennifer had talked to him on the phone that morning. Megan's parents were talking about heading inland until things calmed down, ready for evacuation in case it was necessary. He joked about smuggling himself across the border and Jennifer became serious, telling him to stay put unless he wanted a second injured leg.

"Think we should get out an' help?" Shane asked as a car arrived in front of the makeshift outpost. Jennifer shrugged, taking a long sip of her RedBull.

"I don't want to do anything but sleep," she mumbled, pulling her aviators back down on her face. She hadn't been sleeping well and Shane knew it. Jennifer would lie in bed and toss and turn most of the night before finally sleeping a few hours. Shane switched it up in every way he could imagine, they tried sleeping at his place and hers, in different positions... She tried Benadryl after Shane suggested it and continued to find no relief. She had found that without large amounts of alcohol before bed it was all she could do not to have nightmares of the last month. No amount of cuddling and support from Shane could stop the internal monologue of distressing thoughts from trolling on through. He put his hand on her thigh, hoping it would be enough to ground her in the moment. She smiled slowly at him and put her hand on top of his.

"Ain't it funny how when we're kids we don't wanna sleep, don't wanna even take a damn nap, but as adults, good sleep is like hittin' the damn lottery."

"That's because we don't see all the bad shit that happens as kids. We think the world is perfect. Why would we want to sleep through it?" she spoke, eyes glued on the outpost as she watched an officer turn to look in her and Shane's direction. She shifted in her seat and took another drink. "We're basically immune to all the bad shit that happens until we're teenagers. Kids have a filter. They don't recognize things unless it's happening to them directly. Teenagers have the right idea. Naps. Sleep. It's all worth it. It stays with us until we're in the grave." Shane frowned for a moment, he didn't know much about her past as a child. They had talked about almost everything else. It was if there was an air of secrecy surrounding that time in her life. She was willing to talk about anything unrelated to childhood, treating her life like it started it right after she woke up in the hospital.

"Ya think so?" She smirked and nodded.

"We're all innocent until proven guilty. Kids are innocent. They don't see all that."

"I wish that would'a been true for me," he admitted solemnly. Jennifer's eyes snapped from the outpost over to her partner.

"What do you mean?"

"My parents didn't take care of themselves. It was kinda hard for them to hide that." She squeezed his hand, not expecting him to say anymore about it. There was a short, unspoken conversation between the both of them with that small gesture. It didn't take much for Jennifer to realize that was the chink in Shane's armor. She had been around him long enough to understand that he wore his armor with great care. He polished it up every night, only taking it off in his sleep when he morphed into a drowsy, honest version of himself. During the day it was on, prepared to soak up whatever blows that threatened him. She recognized that the arrogant, snappy cloud surrounding him was all an illusion to keep people from really seeing him. The only thing she didn't know was why he used it. Shane was sure she was close to figuring it out. At this point in the relationship he would be ready to back out, he'd be standing in the doorway to her house, his back to the outside, ready to step out at any moment. No one knew the entire truth about him, no one was supposed to know what he really felt. This was the fine barrier that allowed him to cut people off so easily. And there sat Jennifer, able to dismantle him in one look. He looked at the woman beside him, feeling something in his chest that he couldn't explain for a second. No one in the past, aside from Rick, had been able to read him so easily. He watched a breeze blow small wisps of her hair across her face, the occasional tensing of her jaw as her eyes focused on the outpost again. Shane wasn't ready to admit it, but he knew he could spend a whole day doing nothing but watching her. Shane's phone rang and pulled them both of out their thoughts. "Yeah," was the only response Shane gave in answering.

"Get your asses to my office! _Now_!" Tim yelled before hanging up. Jennifer shook her head and chugged down the rest of her Red Bull. Tim had been on the edge since Tiffany died. He was much more aggravated and it seemed like every small thing would cause an absolute explosion on his end. There was no holding back, he was either completely calm, or pissed off, no in between. Shane started the engine, glancing over at Jennifer as she leaned her back against the seat. He ached to have that small bit of time back, wishing to have more time to sit and take her in.

* * *

Tim was pacing his office when they arrived, rubbing the back of his head in front of the Sergeant and a few members of the squad who were 'taking over' the city for a few days. This was what he didn't want. He didn't want the Sergeant in his town. With the military coming in, it meant shit was getting worse. Tim hadn't taken his blood pressure medication that morning and he was sure it was damn near stroke level listening to the new demands that Sergeant Greg Thompson had in mind for how the city was going to run. Shane was supposed to be helping keep the military from stepping in. This wasn't supposed to happen. Tim's gaze turned lethal upon seeing Shane and Jennifer enter his office. Shane balked at the presence of the men in military garb before him. Jennifer looked up, curiously to figure out why Shane had stopped walking so suddenly. Her eyes widened. "Morgan and Walsh, meet your new boss!" Tim shouted, throwing a hand at the small group of five. He didn't need to say anymore than that, his expression was enough to say what he really wanted to to the both of them. He was pissed.

"Deputy Shane Walsh," Shane spoke, holding his hand out to Sergeant Thompson. The Sergeant was every bit of the six foot six build he had been graced with, shoulders broad enough to sit entire houses on. He was all standard military, buzz cut, no facial hair, hard brown eyes that had seen a world of shit, and a strong jaw. He shook Shane's hand and gave him a tight lipped smile.

"Sergeant Greg Thompson."

"Y'all come down here to help us out?" Greg nodded, releasing Shane's hand to shake Jennifer's. They exchanged a short introduction before Greg spoke again.

"We were hopin' y'all could tell us what kinda activity you've had around here," Greg spoke, folding his hands across his chest. One of the members of his group took a notepad out of his pocket, ready to take notes.

"We've have two isolated incidents. The first one was just one guy. The second, there were two guys," Jennifer answered, her hands falling to her utility belt.

"I see. An' y'all don't know where they came from?"

"No," Shane replied.

"Tim mentioned somethin' about blockades up around the town to monitor who's goin' an' leavin', y'all seen anythin' suspicious?"

"Nope."

"We're gonna be in town for at least a week to kinda help set up some extra supplies an' jus' be here to prepare in case shit goes down in a bad way. But, while I'm here, I'm in charge. I would like to meet up with you an' the rest of your precinct later tonight to put the actions into place." The couple nodded in tandem. Jennifer was hardly able to contain the fear that settled its claws in her throat. The military in town was not a good sign. She looked at the different men standing before them, wanting more answers than she knew she would get. "We wanna make sure that this town is safe. That this thing doesn't escalate any further than what it already has. Especially if there's no tellin' where this thing is comin' from. No one seems to be able to know where an' the damn hell they come from, they jus' keep poppin' up."

"So how bad is it out there?" she asked, unable to stop herself from asking at least one question. A heavy, dark silence fell on the room. Those who couldn't answer the question chose to avoid eye contact with Jennifer. The only one willing to look at her was Greg. He smirked for a moment and then his face fell.

"It's not lookin' too good," he admitted, unwilling to share much more about the situation. It was his duty to worry about it and keep the people inside the town safe. He didn't find the use in making her worried and anxious about it. She nodded her head slowly, the fear continuing to do it's magic on her vocal cords. "We'll see y'all around 4 for the meeting." Tim huffed as he looked between the two of them, his face serious, cheeks red.

Outside, Jennifer turned to look at Shane, hoping he would be able to fill in the blanks that were left. "What do you think this means?" she asked him, watching as he rubbed the back of his head. He shrugged, not wanting to make the situation any more than what it was. There was no evidence that things were getting worse. This could just all be a precaution. He would stick to that until he had a reason to think otherwise. Shane was willing to lie to Jennifer to keep her safe and if that meant pretending he thought everything was okay, he was going to do that. Her eyes were wide, searching his for some type of answer. Swallowing, he reached for her hand and kissed it. There was a lot to worry about on her end. If this was happening all around the country, Casey and Trevor were in danger too, and there was nothing she could do about it. That reality shook her straight down in her core. What is something happened to the both of them? She wouldn't be able to help.

"It's gonna be alright, darlin'," he told her, hoping this wasn't a time that she would find out what was really brewing beneath his surface. Her eyes only broke from his to watch his lips press against her hand. A sad, tiny smile graced her face for a second. He couldn't afford to have her scared. "We can't worry until we got somethin' to worry about, ya hear me? We ain't gonna sit out here an' talk about what if's an' what will's until we got true, honest to God answers. I mean it. I don't wantcha to get too attached to this bullshit. It's gonna be over soon." He was willing to do all of the worrying on his own. He didn't want her to get wrapped up in it, he wanted her to stay just as she was. He knew first hand what kind of damage worrying could do to a person. Nodding, she stepped forward and wrapped him up in a hug, right there in the hallway outside of Tim's office in uniform. Shane dropped his head down against hers, breathing in the scent of her conditioner.

"I'm just worried about Trevor and Casey," she mumbled against his chest.

"They're gonna be jus' fine. I promise."

* * *

The precinct was packed again with officers, Sergeant Thompson in the front of the crowd this time with a few the same men from Tim's office. Things were even more heated with military standing in front of them. Jennifer sat with Shane in the back of the room. He stood behind the chair she was sitting in, his hands on her shoulders protectively. Tim was seated up in the front, drunker than he had been in months. Hansen sat next to Jennifer, a cigarette hanging from his lips. Sergeant Thompson whistled loudly to settle the office into silence. "First thing's first, we would like ta thank y'all for the hospitality since we've arrived. We know it's stressful an' this ain't an easy pill ta swallow. Ya've got all us in your town takin' up your jobs an' runnin' things. It ain't easy. Anyway. We're gonna get down ta business. I know y'all got a lotta questions. We'll get those in time. First, I wanna talk about what us bein' here means." Thompson sifted through a few folders and yanked down on a projector screen behind him, an image of some kind of microscopic slide appeared on the wall. "There's some kinda infection ravagin' the world, folks. We don't know what it is. We ain't quite sure how ta kill it neither. I ain't gonna sugar coat it. We're lookin' at the unknown. We don't know what this thing is, y'all. We don't know how to cure it. We got docs down in the CDC workin' round the clock to find a cure. Here's what we do know: the virus is spread by bodily fluid contact. Mostly, the host will scratch or bite ya an' that's how the virus spreads. The time it takes for it to activate varies. They've seen people turn in as quick as five minutes to a day. It ain't gotta time limit or nothin'." He clicked on a small hand held device and the image behind him changed to one of the sick people compared to an image of the same person without illness.

"This is whatta person who is sick looks like. Notice the eyes, how they change in color. This is the kinda shit ya needta keep an eye out for. They can't talk. They don't respond. They ain't gonna reason with ya. It's like they got rabies. Some kinda aggressive streak runs wild." Jennifer held her head down, having had enough encounters with people ravaged by the illness. "They only go down with a shot to the head, or some type of piercing to the brain itself. We haven't quite figured out all the workin's yet. But, we're tryin', okay? We're workin' on a solution to this thing as we speak. We got men an' women workin' 'round the clock to get a vaccine for this thing." Questions raised among the crowd again and Greg did his best to silence it. "It's gettin' outta control. The entire world don't know what to do right now. We're doin' our best. Our focus right now is not to cause a panic. We wanna keep the people safe an' calm. They don't need to get worked up yet. I'll letcha know when we're at that point. We jus' need to focus on the basics. Keepin' this town secure, the people calm, an' makin' sure that this thing doesn't spread anymore than what it needs to."

* * *

Jennifer and Shane sat side by side on the couch later that night, neither one quite focused on whatever the television was playing. It was late but they couldn't sleep, still haunted by what they had seen back at the morgue. They were both mostly concerned with the plan they had created when they got back to his place. Neither one of them was sure what to include. They had it worked out though, if something major was to happen, one of them was going to get Lori and Carl while the other got Rick. Lori wasn't able to protect herself against damn near anything. There was no way she was going to be able to hold her own against the sick people when she couldn't even kill a spider. After everyone was together they were going to gather up supplies and head out of town and into the country. Shane hadn't been able to stop Jennifer from worrying about what they should do after the meeting. There was no way she was going to relax now. This was happening all over the world and no one knew what to do.

Jennifer relaxed against the cushion, hands running through her hair as she looked down at the list of supplies Shane had made. She was hoping they weren't going to have to use it, but judging by the events of the day - there was no way to tell what was coming. Greg and his large team of about 70 men had set up a camp in the middle of town and two on the outskirts. She watched them unpack their gear with the rest of the town, watching as men and women pulled endless strings of ammo out of boxes. Shane relaxed a few moments later, laying his head on her lap, his body taking up the rest of the couch. A small smile slipped across her lips as his eyes closed, arms folded across his chest. She ran her hands through his hair, finding something mindless to do while the television carried on with a late night news program. The President was making an announcement from an undisclosed location, stating that there was nothing to fear. Jennifer repressed the urge to snort. Why the undisclosed location if there was nothing to fear? Why the need for all the martial law orders and military patrolling the streets? He continued to spout off details of the virus and updates that he had received from the scientists working on the case.

"I can't listen to this bullshit anymore," Shane quipped, reaching over to shut the television off. "It's buncha fuckin' lies is what it is."

"There would be panic if people knew the truth," Jennifer replied, watching the screen go black.

"People have a right ta know what the fuck is goin' on."

"Ever heard the term ignorance is bliss, Shane?" she asked. He settled himself back into her lap, his eyes open this time, brow furrowed.

"Jus' because it makes them feel good don't mean it's right. They need to come correct." He didn't like the idea of no one knowing what was going on. In his eyes, it meant more chaos later. There wouldn't be time for people to grab supplies or be ready for anything, if anything was going to happen at all. The Sergeant definitely seemed to believe that something was going to happen and Shane could feel it. Jennifer didn't want to admit it, but she knew nothing about the situation felt right. She wanted to pretend like everything would just blow over, that it was all just some sort of big mistake. The CDC would figure it out and fix it, just like they did with everything else. This was all temporary. She rolled her eyes and continued to play with his hair, sleep finally trying to settle it's way into her eyelids. "Sleepy?" Jennifer smiled lazily and gave him a short nod. He rose up from his spot on the couch and stood, holding his hand out to help her up. She placed her hand in his and he pulled her to his chest, kissing the top of her head before letting her go, following her to the bedroom. He smirked at the backs of her bare thighs. She was only wearing his t-shirt and a pair of boyshorts. His shirt fell at just the right length on her to send his sex drive into gear. Jennifer fell into his habitually unmade bed, snuggling into a pile of pillows and blankets. Shane laid down beside her after pulling his t-shirt and jeans off, leaving him in his boxers. He tugged a thin blanket over his lower half and yanked the pillow around under his head until it was comfortable. When he stopped moving Jennifer found her way to his chest. She yawned and Shane could feel the sleep racking itself through her body. He curled his arm around her, hand mindlessly rubbing her scalp. He felt her sigh and did nothing to stop the smile on his face.

_Tiffany was in the locker room with her at work, changing into some work out clothes. She was smiling at Jennifer, rattling on about things she missed from home. Her sisters were planning some big holiday barbecue for the Fourth of July and Tiffany couldn't be there because of work._

_"You could always just take a few days off," Jennifer suggested, setting herself on the task of putting on her uniform._

_"Yeah right! Like Rick is gonna give me time off for the holidays," she snorted, tossing a shirt into a bin nearby._

_"You could just ask, you never know what he might say."_

_"I already know what he is gonna say, Morgan. I ain't that worried about it. I just wanna get through today. I can always see my family later."_

_"What's going on today?" The locker room fell silent. Jennifer could no longer her the small, steady of shuffling of Tiffany going through her locker. Jennifer paused, setting her utility belt down. She turned to look around for any sign of Tiffany. There was no one. The air was stagnant, quiet. Her eyes continued to scan for her fellow officer. She slammed the door to her locker shut and called for Tiffany. No reply. Swallowing, Jennifer walked out into the office of the precinct and called for her again. "Tiffany?" she shouted. Her eyes widened and horror struck through her, paralyzing her body as a steady, unnerving growl sounded from the locker room. "Tiffany?" she asked, much quieter this time. The snarling and growling continued. Jennifer turned around to face the locker room, her hand going for the glock on her utility belt. She cursed when her hand went straight to her hip instead. The growling became louder, mixed in with the rhythmic shuffling and thumping of bare feet on tile. Jennifer continued to stand in place, unable to control her body. "No, no, no, please," she muttered as the sick version of Tiffany filled the doorway to the office. Her blonde hair was matted with blood, eyes open and unmoving. Her body was almost completely covered in dried blood, the wound in her neck was still there, jagged, rotten flesh hanging loosely from it. Tiffany continued to growl and snarl, walking towards Jennifer slowly. "No!" she shouted, able to move when Tiffany was only a few feet away. The quick, sudden movements from Jennifer sent Tiffany into a frenzy, the sick woman rushed towards Jennifer, arms outstretched, teeth clanking together as she tried to bite her. The women fell to the ground in a heap on the floor, Jennifer trying to keep Tiffany's mouth away from her body. Her hand slipped, sinking into the wound the side of her neck. It was this fatal mistake that lead Tiffany's mouth to Jennifer's upper arm._

* * *

My body jerked and I took a ragged, uneven breath in, sitting straight up in Shane's bed. I swallowed hard, unable to stop searching for the imaginary object my fear was trying to create. Fucking nightmares. Fuck. Shane stirred for a moment and I held still, not wanting to wake him up at - I glanced at the clock - four in the fucking morning. Only another four hours of sleep. Fuck me. I ran a quick hand through my hair, trying to settle my heart back into a normal, functional rhythm. Shane made a small face in his sleep and I laid myself back down against his chest. He was so warm. So warm and solid. He hadn't shaved in two days, leaving a short, barely there stubble across his jaw. I kissed his jaw and wrapped the arm that wasn't smashed underneath me around his chest. He sighed and I could hardly resist from rubbing my hand up and down his torso, feeling the endless ropes of muscles that made up his body. I used this to cope with the pain forming in my head. Nightmares were becoming an every night occurrence and I was absolutely fucking sick of it. Guilt settled in my chest. I wanted so badly to wake him up and talk to him about it, but I knew he hadn't sleep much either. He was the only one I had. The only one I could lean on. I didn't want to take that and abuse it. What if he left me because of that? There were small dark, circles forming under his eyes the last few days and I felt partly to blame for that. I placed another short kiss on his jaw and decided against waking him up.

With great care, I pulled myself away from his side and padded into the kitchen, where my utility belt was. It was funny to think about how attached I had gotten to this part of my uniform. There was so much that it represented to me. Wrapping my hand around it, I headed to the coffee table in the living room, searching for the gun cleaning materials Shane kept stored away inside of it. I pulled out the stained towel along with a various amount of bottles, toothbrushes, small tools, and rags. This was what I needed...


	16. Chapter 16

**Oil On Water by Bastille, most of the inspiration for this chapter. Especially the first few paragraphs.**

**Really, really pathetic one time read through - any mistakes are my bad! Some parts may be hard to read, I haven't quite figured out how to word them right. It's been kinda driving me nuts. I know what I wanna say, but it's not coming out how I want. I'll try and work on it.**

**Will read through and fix in a few hours.**

**Thank you guys!**

* * *

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

* * *

Jennifer snuck back into bed before the sun came up after stripping and cleaning her gun. She slid into bed, trying not disturb Shane as she wiggled up beside him. He was stretched out on his side, his lower half buried under pounds of blankets - chest was warm and bare. Smirking, she wrapped one arm around his waist, cradling him with his back to her. He was like a space heater, constantly warm. It was one of her favorite things about him. No matter what the temperature was, he was always scorching. A small groan came from his throat at the feeling of her cold hands against his skin. "Darlin'?" he muttered, voice heavy with sleep. He moved as if he was going to get up. She shushed him and kissed the small bit of skin beneath his earlobe, holding him in place on his side. Jennifer didn't have much of a chance to hold anyone in the manner she was holding Shane. Most of the time, Mike was up well before she was. She was almost sure that even if Mike had been in bed on the mornings she was up, that he wouldn't allow her to do what she was doing anyway. The position itself screamed vulnerable. Not that Shane was vulnerable – he was the word far from vulnerable when he was awake. There was a girlfriend she had before Mike that let her do it sometimes, but to be able to hold another person like Shane… the man who tried so hard to act like he didn't have a soft bone in his body… it spoke volumes about the kind of man he really was. Jennifer was sure that even if Shane was awake that he would let her do it. She smirked against his shoulder, studying the peace that graced his face while he slept. Curling her legs around his, she sighed and tried to make herself sleep.

A few hours later Shane had turned around and was nestling her to his chest like she would vanish at any moment. His body was halfway lying on top of hers, his face buried in her hair. The curls tickled his face, but it was the best way for him to really smell her. He loved the smell of her conditioner and the faint smell of - gun oil? He smirked and kissed the top of her head. The combination of warmth from him and the sun beaming in from his window allowed her to feel that gooey, warm feeling in her bones once again. A shiver rippled through her body at the feeling of his face against her neck, his free hand rubbing any part of her that it could touch. A lazy smile spread across Jennifer's lips. He kissed her quickly, thoroughly, and devotedly, wanting to taste every bit of her like it was his first time.

* * *

Patrol started off like usual, the only hiccup being that the military was walking the streets outside like it was just an everyday thing to do. Aside from them, it was relatively normal: head down to the precinct, check out what happened overnight, watch the news, gather ammo, and head off for work. Most of the town that hadn't left yet was extraordinarily edgy. The economical hit from not being open after 6 in the evening was cutting into businesses and leading more families to the question of how they would feed themselves and where they would get supplies from. The hospital's staff was overwhelmed with cases related to hypochondriacs who promised the emergency room staff that they had symptoms described on television. No one in town was exactly happy with anything that was being done. Most of them still didn't believe that there was anything to worry about and that Tim had called in the military as a diversion. Jennifer grabbed the mace off of the shelf in the ammunition locker and sat it back down with a huff. Searching for another magazine clip she heard Shane yell out from the office along with a few other voices. She ran towards his voice, tossing the extra magazines back onto the shelf.

In the office, the television was on, a journalist reporting live from the outskirts of Atlanta. In the background, there was chaos. Buildings were on fire, people were screaming and yelling. The reporter could barely be heard over the sounds around her. There was a massive amount of looting, hospitals were being closed down and diverted to other areas, and the town was just overall losing its shit. There was no easier way to put it. The infected were growing in number without showing any signs of stopping. Shane and Jennifer made eye contact, another unspoken conversation between the two about to do next. Was it finally time to lay down their badges and save themselves or were they not to that point yet? Neither one of them quite knew what to do. She bit down on the inside of her lip before shouting. "We need to get this city on lock down as soon as possible, people!" she shouted, slamming her hand down on the nearest desk.

"Better go take it up with the Jolly Green Giant out there," someone piped in, pointing for the small makeshift office that Greg had made for his stay. Sergeant Thompson had been resistant to taking advice from anyone since his meeting last night. Tim had give complete control to Thompson, allowing him to do whatever was necessary, meaning he could finally curl up in his office and drink his scotch without having to worry. Jennifer stalked outside, Shane hot on her heels. The office that Thompson had designated himself to consisted of nothing more than a 4 wall tent with a flap door. She stomped inside, ignoring the fact that he was hunched over a table, talking on his phone.

"We need a better plan! We need to go on lock down! No one in this town comes outside unless they have an escort!" Jennifer started off, scowling as their eyes met.

" _Deputy Morgan_ , I didn't know _you_ were in charge," Greg began, putting his phone down on the table.

"Do you _even watch_ the fucking news, Thompson? Did you _not_ see what's going on in Atlanta?! This is happening an hour away from us! What's your plan? Think about all of the people that are going to be fleeing to the outside areas carrying _fuck only knows what_!"

"Lemme worry about all that," he assured, waving a hand at her, closing the distance between them. "I'sall scare tactics, that's it. It's the news. They're paid to make everythin' way worse than what it needs to be."

"We still need to consider what the fuck is going to happen when we have a bunch of people trying to get into this city, _Sergeant_."

"Whatcha suspect I do there, Jenny?"

"Watch your fuckin' mouth," Shane growled, from over her shoulder, fists balled up, ready to strike.

"Ya better fuckin' cool it, Walsh. I got no time for games today. Let the lady speak..."

"You need to stop people from entering the city," she insisted.

"An' what should I do, huh? Put up a blockade an' tell people the town is restricted? Those people have'a right to flee an' evacuate. They have'a chance jus' as much as the people in this town. Ya want me ta risk my men gettin' killed in a frenzy? I mean since ya seem to know so much why don'tcha tell me what to do?" he taunted back. She squeezed her hands into fists.

"Get your head out of your ass and do you fucking job," she snipped back. "There's a real threat in the area and you're pretending like everything is fine."

"My men can handle it."

"Can they?" she barked. "Sure, they're good about attacking invading things, but what about people that are already here, huh? This threat will be right inside this town, sleeping a few feet away if you let this happen, Thompson!" she shouted. Sergeant Thompson took a few steps back and waved Jennifer and Shane out of his tent, pulling the flap down when they were well and gone.

* * *

Around 2 in the afternoon the town became overpowered. Refugees from the surrounding Atlanta area had finally made it to King County. Shane wiped a hand down on his face as he watched Jennifer lead another family into a parking spot along Main Street, their car overstuffed with things they considered they're most precious valuables. Greg had decided to open up the town to people attempting to flee the chaos wrecking Atlanta. They were subject to the same rules as the townspeople, same curfew and same quarantine schedule if they noticed something to be out of the ordinary. Jennifer argued with him for close to twenty minutes as people drove into the city about why it was a bad idea, but Greg insisted he knew what he was doing.

"If he wasn't in charge, I'd kick his fucking ass," Jennifer muttered under her breath to Shane. She came to stand at his side, watching as families poured out of their vehicles to find other loved ones or stretch their legs. They had completely filled up Main Street and one of the intersecting streets and they hadn't even parked all of the people yet. Shane put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. "This just has fucking disaster written all over it."

"Do what?" Shane asked with a short laugh. She smirked and hit his shoulder with the back of her hand.

"This has disaster plastered on it in big fucking red letters, Shane. I don't like this."

"Ya wanna leave? We can pack up the car, get Carl, Lori, an' Rick. We can be outta here by tonight. We don't have'ta tell a livin' soul," he whispered the last half to her, turning to meet her gaze. Jennifer frowned and glanced back down the street.

"Shane."

" _Darlin'_."

"We need to stay," she insisted, smoothing her hands down her uniform. "These people still need us with that fucking goon in charge," she snapped, casting another glare in his direction as he started handing out bottles of water.

"This ain't about the town, Jen. This is about us." She huffed and glanced down the long line of cars again, almost wanting to spot something abnormal as an excuse to bail.

"I don't know," she groaned. There was no quick and easy fix to the situation. They either tried to stay and help protect the city from the disease, knowing there may be no way out later or they had the chance to leave now, before things got too bad and there would be nothing Greg or Tim could do to stop them or chase them down. Shane knew this and Jennifer did too, but the overwhelming sense to protect and serve was pressuring her to stay.

"This ain't gonna end well either way. We either get out now before it gets bad or wait for it to get bad an' run out of time to leave."

"So you think we should leave?" Shane nodded. Shane didn't want to risk anything happening to either one of them. He wanted to get out while there was still time to gather things together and Hansen approached them, no cigarette to be seen. He was scruffy, his hair unkempt and wild on top of his head, his badge crooked.

"Jesus, Hansen. Can I get you some deodorant?" she groaned as he stopped between the couple.

"Sorry, I haven't had time to shower," Hansen mumbled in reply. "Becky's had me up every hour to check the perimeter of the house. Even at four the fucking morning. Perimeter check. This shit's gotta end soon, man."

"Where's she at?" Shane asked, checking for someone in the crowd who didn't quite belong.

"She refused to come out here. Too many people. I left her at home. _And oh, look_. She's calling me _again_ ," he spoke, dejected, pulling his phone from his pocket. "Thirty missed calls in one block. Record setter."

"Hansen. We have a plan," Jennifer spoke, pushing his phone down as it rang again.

"If it involves anything with getting the hell out of here, count me in."

"Come by Shane's place tonight and we'll talk then." Hansen nodded. "And take a fucking shower, please?" she tacked on, receiving a dimple baring smirk. Hansen walked away to help a small family set a tent up behind their car, phone still ringing away like mad in his pocket. Jennifer and Shane walked the length of Main Street, down to the last building before the cookie cutter homes of suburbia started.

"So you wanna leave?" Shane asked, curiously, trying to gauge her reaction to the entire situation. She hadn't been able to get ahold of Trevor for a few days and Casey was in some small town in North Carolina called Woodland Acres. It was just far enough away from her parent's home to feel safe, but not so far in case the whole situation just washed away on its own. She had barely touched any food since the incident with Tiffany, eating no more than a few bites of things here and there on top of not being able to sleep either. Shane's fix it list was daunting.

"Yeah," she answered, gazing down the street towards another wave of cars. Then, it sounded. A horrific, screeching sound that only came on when there was imminent danger. The civil defense siren. Jennifer swallowed hard and pulled out her phone as it began to vibrate and chime. Trevor. Her mouth became chalk. She tried to swallow again, her hands fumbling to answer the call while the siren continued to scream. "Trevor!" she shouted, pulling the phone up to her ear. Shane snatched his phone from his pocket and began to jog back towards town, motioning for Jennifer to follow.

"Jen, I – I – I don't know what's going on," Trevor shouted back between sobs. Trevor never cried. Trevor was Mr. Stoic. He didn't breakdown on the phone for no apparent reason. He sounded confused, lost, and hurt all at the same time. "I – I was at work an' when I – I – _oh_ – fuck. What's – Jen?!"

"Trevor!" She stopped mid-step, plugging her free ear with a finger in order to concentrate. "Trevor, just relax, okay? Just calm down and breathe." Trevor's voice broke into a sob again. The sounds hit her straight in the gut, trapping the air in her lungs. "Just relax. Just calm down and think."

"The military's here an' they – they – they locked us up, Jen. We're locked in upstairs in our building. They won't let us leave!"

"Listen to me. Just – _shh_ – just listen!" she quipped, in a sharp tone that demanded attention, but empathized with him at the same time. He continued to sob. Shane stopped a few hundred yards ahead, turning to see where his partner had gone off to. "Trevor, something's happening, okay. Something that's not good. I will call you back as soon as I can, okay? As soon as I hear anything. Just sit still and calm down. Do _. Not_. Panic. Okay?"

"Jen – Jen – please. I don't wanna be alone. I don't wanna die alone, Jen. Please – just – I love you," he cried. She fell to the asphalt in a heap at that very line, unable to move her body. They never said those words to each other. Not without a serious consequence bearing down on the other. The siren blared in the background and Jennifer listened to muffled screams come through his end of the phone and what sounded like gunshots.

"I love you, too," she muttered back as the phone went dead. Tears rimmed Jennifer's eyes, threatening to fall at any moment. Shane ran to her side, yelling her name the entire way.

"Jennifer, darlin'! Jen!" Shane shouted, inches from her face, holding his hands under her jaw as she sobbed. "Jen, baby, what's wrong?" He wrapped her up in a hug, seizing her in place. She wrapped her hands up in his uniform shirt, clutching to him like warmth does to the sun, needing him to hold her tighter and closer than he could possibly ever get.

"Trevor," she choked, burying her face into his neck. "He's in trouble, Shane." His eyes slammed shut, one hand on the back of her head, massaging her scalp, the other arm solid around her waist.

"It's gonna be okay, baby. I promise. It's gonna be okay," he whispered, fighting back the intense urge to cry himself. Shane didn't know at what point he had started to care about whether or not Jennifer was happy, but right now… it seemed like the only mission he had. It was on his list of things to do sure, but to see her breakdown so quickly it felt like someone had punched a hole in his chest. All he wanted to do was make her happy, give a reason for that rare smile to grace her face. Real fear settled in that he would never be good enough to be that person, that she needed someone stronger than he was. The words sat right on the end of his tongue. I love you. He swallowed and bit down on his tongue, forcing the words not to come out. She was already upset and confused about the state of the world. She wasn't ready to hear something that he was sure would take that small spark of Jennifer he had left. They sat there on the asphalt, listening to the siren trail off in the wind. When Jennifer finally grew up the confidence she shifted in his lap and kissed his cheek, earning a kiss to the forehead. Shane was sure that Thompson was somewhere losing his shit judging by the way his phone and radio were vibrating, but he sat, unable to be moved by anyone but the woman before him.

"Thank you," she whispered, kissing the side of neck.

"What for?" he asked, confused as to what he had done deserve her thanks. She was still upset and had been for the past week. She hadn't been able to sleep. Jennifer had no idea how much more she deserved in his eyes. She deserved someone to take care of her, someone to look after her when she had too much drink, someone to help pull her away from herself when she needed it – the list grew and grew as he continued to list off the things she deserved. Shane wasn't willing to give her away though. He wanted her to be his. He wasn't going to let her go so easily. He was going to be those things for her. They walked back towards the precinct, watching as the military loaded up into convoys and drove off. "What the hell is goin' on?" Shane yelled at Hansen as the three of them ran to the garage.

"Some kind of outbreak happened at the hospital!" Hansen yelled back. Families were out of their vehicles, standing in the street, watching in horror. A man grabbed Jennifer's arm to get her to stop and talk to them, the force of his grab almost caused her to fall backwards. Shane stopped and turned, his face turning an instant shade of red.

"Hey!" Shane barked, running up on the two of them.

"Sir!" Jennifer shouted. "I don't know anything, that's what I'm trying to find out!" She wiggled, trying to break free from his grasp, trying to pry his fingers out of her skin.

"Let her go!" Shane growled, slamming his hands into the man's chest. The shove almost sent the both of them to the ground. Jennifer yelped as his nails drug across her skin, fresh blood left in his path.

"Sir! Please," she pleaded as he reached out to grab ahold of her again. She winced away from the man and fell into place behind Shane, lifting her sleeve to look at the damage on her arm. Shane raised his fist to the man, his jaw tight, face serious.

"Don't fuckin' make me," he warned, watching the man scramble backwards.

"Come on, Shane," she whispered, wrapping her hand around his fist. "We need to get to the hospital." He turned to look at her, his hands immediately taking notice of the small amount of blood dripping down her arm. "I'm fine," she assured him, holding a hand on his chest. "Come on." She held her hand out and pulled him along behind her.

* * *

Outside of the hospital it was chaos. There were military vehicles stationed at every entrance, bodies laid scattered about the parking lot, among abandoned vehicles or worse - occupied vehicles with the infected inside. Jennifer coughed at the smell, the pungent, rotting smell of death filling the entire area. It was enough to make her eyes water. Shane parked the patrol car at the edge of the parking lot. Hansen parked directly behind Shane and was already out of his car before Shane had a chance to cut his engine. Some armed military men were standing near an ambulance, watching as someone set a tent up in the grass, hanging a sign up that designated it as a quarantine zone. "What's going on here?" Hansen asked, waiting for Shane and Jennifer to approach.

"The outside hospital sent someone infected here," one of the men replied.

"'S it safe to go inside?" Shane asked, hands on his hips as he looked at the short, four story building.

"Sure. Just be careful of the quarantine zones. They've got a couple set up inside." Shane nodded and turned to look at Jennifer and Hansen. Jennifer had her hands on her hips, facing the hospital, Hansen was struggling to pull a cigarette out of his pocket.

"I'm gonna go inside an' see how Rick is doin', I'll come back an' let y'all know if he's safe for transport." Jennifer immediately held her hand up.

"You want to go inside there alone?" she asked, eyebrow quirking up. He bit down on his lower lip and nodded. "You're fucking kidding me right?"

"Jen, I ain't takin' you or Hansen inside if it ain't safe."

"So you want to go on a suicide mission? _Alone?_ To check on Rick?" He nodded again.

"No, Shane."

"This ain't up for debate, darlin'." She cocked her hip to the side and folded her arms up again, taking in the wave of ambulances arriving from the opposite end of the hospital.

"I'm not letting you go inside alone," she insisted.

"I got my radio, I'll be fine. I promise."

"We shouldn't split up," she pressed again, turning to look at him this time. "Splitting up is bad."

"I got my radio. Channel three as usual. Jus' listen for me, okay?"

"We got your back," Hansen assured, cigarette in his mouth and lit.

"You're okay with this?" she hissed, turning to slap Hansen on the shoulder. "No!"

"We're wastin' time," Shane quipped back, throwing his hand to the situation unfolding at the ambulance bay. There was a crowd of bodies surrounding the first ambulance, doctors and nurses of all kinds trying to get a patient out of the back and inside. "I gotta do this, Jen. Too many of us will cause a scene. Jus' lemme get inside, check on Rick, an' I'll call ya when I get upstairs."

"You're so fucking - " she grumbled and scowled, twisting her body away from him when he reached out to touch her.

"Ya got your radio?"

"Yes," she snapped, holding it up for him to see.

"Channel three."

"Channel three," she repeated, rolling her eyes as she adjusted her radio. He smirked at her and nodded to Hansen before running off inside.

* * *

Inside was much worse than Shane was expecting. Blood smeared the once white walls in some places, patients and families littered the hallways, crying and yelling at some of the military personnel stationed there. He fought the urge to stop and help them, making his way to the elevator. He tried to avoid eye contact with the woman guarding the hallway that led down towards the emergency room, her rifle drawn and ready in front of her. He glanced down to see what she was waiting for and took notice of the bodies that were laying on the ground. His stomach jumped into his throat. He fumbled to push the button and rode up on the elevator, quickly trying to glance over the fact that Jennifer might have been right. It was too dangerous. But this was Rick. This was his best friend. His partner. He wasn't going to leave him behind. The elevator stopped on the fourth floor and Shane took a shaky step out of the car. The floor was quiet. Shane swallowed and tried to stop the pounding of his heart. He stepped onto a mound of glass. The crunch echoed down the hallway, earning him a growl from somewhere he couldn't pinpoint. The growling continued and there was a loud shuffle from close by. Shane stood for a second, just listening when two bodies came stumbling around the corner, their mouths dripping with fresh, red blood. He cursed, his eyes going wide. He took off into a sprint down to Rick's room, barricading the door closed with a chair. Rick was laying in place, unmoved, untouched. The machine pushing fluids into his arm was steadily beeping. His room was the same eerie quiet as usual. He ran to Rick's side and shook him by his shoulders, willing him to get up and move.

"C'mon," he muttered, shaking him harder. "C'mon, Rick, we gotta get up an' go, man. Shit's goin' crazy around here. Please, Rick, ya gotta wake up!" he shouted. He hesitated, drawing his hand back, ready to slap him senseless. Swallowing, he pressed his fingers to Rick's neck as the sounds of pounding and that sickening growling sound filled the room. Shane cursed and tried to relax enough to feel Rick's pulse. He could only feel the quick tense pulse of his own. He crouched down behind the bed when he heard the rapid firing of a machine gun. The growling stopped. Shane placed his head on Rick's chest and tried to calm his breathing to the point where he could focus again, but he couldn't hear anything. "Shit, man. Shit, I'm so sorry, Rick." He grabbed his partner's hand and squeezed. "It's shouldn't have happened like this. I'll watch over Lori an' Carl. You have my word," he spoke, trying to keep his voice even. He squeezed his partner's hand again and watched the door, half expecting someone to knock it down at any second. Swallowing, he rose up and headed for the door, turning to take a look at Rick again. He sniffed and rubbed the back of his head. This was his best friend and he was gone. He couldn't feel a pulse, couldn't hear him breathe. Shane grabbed the radio and started to call for Jennifer when there was a knock on the door.

"Walsh! Open this fucking door!" a voice whispered. He stared at the door for a moment and hesitated. "Walsh! It's Jen, open up damn it!" she whispered, her voice stern. He pulled the chair back and barely opened the door, yanking her inside by a quick tug of her arm.

"What in the hell are ya doin'?" he whispered back, glowering. "Are ya that fuckin' thick headed, Jen? I told ya to wait outside!"

"You're my partner. I wasn't going to let you do this alone, Shane." His jaw clenched and he looked back over at Rick.

"He's gone." He hung his head. Jennifer grabbed his hands with hers and squeezed.

"I'm so sorry, Shane." He shook his head slightly, pulling her to his chest. He laid his head against hers, eyes closed. "What do you want to do? It's too dangerous to take him out of here right now," she whispered, holding herself in place.

"I know," he muttered, the reality sinking down. There was no way they could get his body out of the hospital without drawing too much attention to themselves. It was already too risky to be standing inside of it alive. "We'll have to come back." She willed herself to pull away from him to look at his face.

"We will come back," she promised, hands on either side of his face. "We will." Shane nodded and took another moment to look over his best friend. Jennifer popped the door open, just enough to glance down the hallway. "It's clear," she whispered, reaching back to grab his hand. She wiggled herself into the hall, wedging the door to fit her size. Shane followed suite. She grabbed a large metal gurney that was sitting near Rick's room and slammed it into the door a lot harder than was necessary. Wincing, she glanced up at Shane. There was a large amount of shooting action going on somewhere on their floor, Shane couldn't place exactly where.

"Damn it," he muttered as the growling and snarling started up again. "Let's go!" he ordered, pushing her towards the stair well. Jennifer stole a glance behind them to watch a small crowd of the infected bumble in their direction.

"Shane," she whimpered, her hands going numb as they reached the lever of the door. He turned and cursed, grabbing her and reaching for the handle at the same time, they fell into stairwell. Jennifer immediately turned and fell against the door, shoving it closed behind them as the bodies bounced off the door. The scratching, growling and biting made her stomach twist and bubble in the nastiest ways. Shane paused, looking at the wild, crazy look in her eyes, her hair askew, badge crooked and bloodied. He kissed her quick and hard.

"Listen to me next time," he warned, trying to ignore the sounds coming from directly behind her.

"Fat fucking chance," she teased, kissing his chin. He smirked, holding his arm out for her to walk down the stairs first.


	17. Chapter 17

 

**Author's Note: Okay, so it's been a while. A good, long while! I have had most of this written and added about 2k to it over the course of the last few days. I came to a stand still and with a combination of the holidays and a few other personal things - my muse returned. I know this is about 1-2k words less than my usual, but I could NOT for the LOVE of shit find any good way to end this chapter. This chapter is very sporadic, it jumps around a bit, but there's a lot of action and in my opinion, there is only so many ways you can describe what's happening without making it boring as fuck. So, here we are. I didn't read through the last half out of fear that I would change a bunch of stuff. I'll probably do it this weekend, so please understand there's probably a few errors in the last two paragraphs.**

**Anyway - I'll shut up now.**

* * *

**Chapter 17**

* * *

Shane and Jennifer were hunched over the trunk of the patrol car, shoveling in as many bags of food and clothing that they could pack on short notice. Hansen was standing behind them, keeping an eye out for anything potentially suspicious. Jennifer slammed the lid to the trunk shut after Shane stuffed in the last bag. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they both turned to look at Hansen. "I gotta head home and pack with Becky. I'll meet up with you guys here in a bit?" Hansen asked. There had been an emergency broadcast message playing on the radio non-stop since the incident at the hospital. A safe-zone was being set up at Fort Benning, open to all who needed it. After the siren and the hospital, the town had grown weary. Many ran to Thompson's tent demanding answers, there was a lot of looting and chaos all around them.

"Yep," Shane answered with a nod of his head. Hansen gave a salute and jogged off back towards his house. "Keep that radio on!" Shane shouted after him.

"We need to get Lori, Carl, and Terry," Jennifer told him, watching Hansen dodge a crowd gathering on the sidewalk to listen to something one of the subordinates was announcing. "And we're not splitting up to do it either," she tacked on, turning under his arm to face him. He smirked and kissed the top of her head.

"Nah, darlin', we ain't splittin' up." She gave him a quick squeeze and dragged herself away from him, making herself head to the other patrol car. There was no way the six of them were going to fit comfortably in one car and she didn't trust the Honda to go such a long distance. "Keep your radio on," he warned, wagging a finger at her. She gave him a teasing wag of her finger back before shutting her door.

They drove in silence to Terry's house, Jennifer kept glancing back in the rearview mirror, almost expecting something to go wrong on the drive there. She tried to keep her focus on what was happening before her, shifting restlessly in her seat around each turn. At Terry's, the door to the house was wide open. Her first clue that things were not alright at home. She parked the car right next to the porch, running up the steps with her gun drawn. Shane yelled her name, his window down, fear settling in his bones as she ran into the open house. She called out for Terry, but she didn't get a reply. She took to shouting after a few more seconds of silence. The house was deathly quiet. Swallowing, she ran into the kitchen to find Terry slumped over in a chair, a bottle of whiskey in his hand, a joint in the other. Blood was pooling on the floor below him from a wound across his abdomen, bright red and thick on the yellowed tiles. "Terry," his name came out hoarse, barely above a whisper. "Wha- what happened?" she sniffed, holstering her gun before she pushed him backwards in the chair, making him sit straight up.

"Jen..." he croaked, his eyes shut. "S-s-sorry." He slumped forward again.

"No! No! Terry!" she shouted, pushing him back. He didn't flinch. Hot tears fell on command, streaking down her face like wildfire. Shane stood in the doorway of the kitchen, his face relaxing upon the sight. Jennifer sank to her knees, holding her face in her hands. "I should have been here," she cried. "He needed me and I wasn't here."

"Darlin', please. You know that's not true. Terry wouldn'uh wanted ya hangin' around the house jus' waitin' for somethin' to happen. Ya know that." Shane sank down onto the floor beside her, rubbing her back in slow, steady circles. A rapid firing of a gun from close by brought Shane to his feet. He picked his gun up from the floor and stood, eyes scanning the doorway. Ripping the bottle from Terry's hand, she took a long swig, wincing as she swallowed. There was another loud bang from nearby that made Shane uneasy. He shifted his weight and reached down to grab his partner. "We gotta get outta here, Jen. It ain't safe. We gotta go." He wrapped his fingers around her upper arm and yanked her up, readying his gun in his other hand. She fell after him, stumbling through the living room with the sounds of gunshots echoing through the house.

Outside, there was a small group of twenty people, running and screaming, the military could be seen up the road, forming a blockade in the middle of the street. She paused, wide eyed at the doorway before knocking back another mouthful of whiskey. Shane shoved Jennifer ahead of him. They clamored into the closest squad car, scrambling to buckle their seatbelts. The tires out in the gravel driveway, Shane flicking the lights and the sirens on. Jennifer grasped his thigh as he pulled onto the street, dodging a group running along the shoulder. He slammed on the gas, sending them away from the chaos at a quick, steady speed. Jennifer turned in her seat to look through the rearview window at the people screaming for them to let them in the car.

"What's going on?" Jennifer whispered – a part of her already knew that answer. The other half of her didn't want to admit it quite yet.

"It spread too damn fast," Shane cursed, slamming his hands down on the steering wheel.

* * *

I already knew the answer before I had even asked the fucking question. It was happening. The virus was spreading. Trevor wasn't safe. Terry was dead. And I had no idea what the hell was going on with Casey. I snapped back around in my seat, digging in my pocket for my cell phone. I needed to know he was okay. I couldn't lose everyone all in one day. I just couldn't. Biting down on my nail I called his number, bracing myself when Shane pulled us around another curve a little too quickly. Busy signal. Busy signal. _Busy. Fucking. Signal_. I inhaled sharply at the sound of Shane's voice filling the car. "Fuck!" he shouted, the car swerved quickly to the right then back to the left.

"What!?" I shouted back, gripping the dashboard, glancing up in just enough time to miss whatever Shane had dodged.

"Look!" I turned in my seat again to look out the back window. Standing in the middle of the street was one of the infected, a severed arm in his hand, ripping flesh from the bone with his teeth.

"What the fuck is going on!" I yelled the words time, unable to make myself stop staring.

"Nothin' good."

"Fucking clearly," I snapped. "What was that whole leg thing about back there? They're eating people?" Shane kept his eyes on the road, jaw tight. I pulled my gun back up in view for comfort before turning to sit in my seat. He shook his head and reached for his radio, trying to call other deputies who might be on call. No one answered. "What do we do?" I asked, cautiously. A painful look graced his face for a second before he relaxed.

"I don't know, Jen." The defeat in his voice was evident. Neither one of us knew what exactly we were supposed to do. The sounds of the siren blaring cut off the outside world for a moment. "We'll head to Fort Benning. Gather up everybody n' ship on outta this hell hole," he spoke. His right hand left the steering wheel and sat heavily on my thigh. The weight of his hand was all that kept me grounded in the moment.

* * *

Lori Grimes was sitting in her kitchen, oblivious to the events taking place outside of her home. She was sitting at the table, grading through some papers that she had a chance to catch up on during the lockdown. She sat some less than perfect spelling tests off to the side when she heard the knock. Sighing, she rose, frustrated at the interruption. Carl shifted on the couch to get a better view of the door. She opened the door to take in the view of Jennifer and Shane. Jennifer was standing with her back to Lori, hand on her belt for better access to her holster. "Shane - ? " Lori questioned, blank stare focused on his partner. "What's going on?" her eyes flicked up to meet his.

"We gotta talk…" he trailed off, pushing past her. Jennifer glanced at Lori and they made eye contact. Jennifer's face conveyed all she needed to know. Something wasn't right. Something was bad. Lori clenched her jaw, turning to watch Shane barrel into her kitchen, shoveling canned goods and groceries into a bag.

"What's going on?" Lori whispered as Shane continued to open up cabinet after cabinet.

"We gotta get outta town. That illness is spreadin' fast. There's a safe zone down South. We gotta pack up an' head out. You an' Jen start packin' up your clothes. Pack light. Clothes for about a week for you an' Carl."

"No, Shane. We can't. We need to stay here for Rick. We can't leave," she insisted, snapping her fingers before pointing for Carl to head to his room. This action earned an eye roll from him, but he obeyed his mother, sauntering upstairs.

"Lori – Rick – is – " he paused. Her eyes became wide and wild in an instant. "He didn't make it – " he swallowed before making himself turn to look at his best friend's wife. Jennifer appeared in the background. The women made eye contact again and Lori fell against the wall in shock. There was a pause in the kitchen between the three. Lori let out a quiet sob.

"We ain't got much time. We gotta try to beat the traffic outta here."

"You tell me my husband is dead and you just expect me to – to – " Lori trailed off as the sounds of gunshots nearby filled the house. "What's going on?" she asked, wide eyed.

"There's no time to explain right now. Just pack and we'll explain on the way," Jennifer snapped, gun in hand. Lori rose, shakily from the floor, listening to Carl run down the stairs. He entered the kitchen, panic on his face.

"Get on upstairs an' pack, Carl," Shane ordered. Carl turned on his heel, dragging his mother with him towards the stairs. Jennifer stood in the same place, waiting for a new plan. "Watch the front door, I'm gonna hang out back here around the patio. She nodded to him and repositioned herself to face the entry way. Another few cracks of a gunshot, Shane tensed. Whoever it was, was close. "Don't use your gun unless you have to. We'll try to use hand to hand first, keep the noise low," he whispered to his partner, motioning for her to put the gun away. He withdrew the baton attached to his utility belt and hunched down near the back door. Jennifer followed his lead, grateful that with the lay out of the house that she could watch him from the front door. Shuffling and scraping could be heard from the behind Jennifer's door. She clutched the baton in her hand, knuckles white. The doorknob turned and opened, Hansen came stumbling in, gun drawn. A quick, forced exhale escaped from Jennifer's lips.

"You ever fucking knock?" she barked, slamming the door closed behind him and Becky.

"Sorry, I was more worried about the group of fucking corpses amblin' down the street," he choked, pointing to outside. Jennifer moved a small portion of curtain back from the window to catch a look for herself. There was a group of about ten infected walking down the street, no real purpose to their movements.

"What happened to meetin' us later?" Shane asked, scooting behind Jennifer to catch a look at the street.

"Infected are basically everywhere right now, just out walkin' - there's no such thing as later. We have to go now," Hansen explained. "We stay an' we might as well write out our death certificates now."

"How's your sister?" Jennifer asked, locking the padlock on the door.

"You tell me," he spoke, holding his phone up for her to see. 60 missed calls. "And that's only been since half an hour ago when I told her we would swing by an' pick her up next. She's supposed to be packing." The three officers walked to the kitchen and stood, not entirely sure of what to say or do. Jennifer was still occupied the thoughts of Terry and Trevor and her inability to talk to Casey. Three out of the four people she truly cared for were either dead or unable to be reached. She didn't have the courage or strength to work up an escape plan. Hansen fumbled in his pockets, shoving his still ringing cellphone down into his uniform pants.

"How do we get out of here?" Jennifer asked after a moment, arms folded across her chest.

"Fort Benning is where we're goin', right?" Hansen asked, fingers drumming on the counter.

"Yep," Shane answered. He was standing at the back door, eyes scanning for any potential threats.

"I say we load up, get on the highway, and camp out there for awhile. At least until this shit blows over. Give it a few weeks and let them come up with the vaccine, get everyone straight." Jennifer nodded in agreement.

"We can start looking for Trevor once the vaccine is released. I can't wait. I need to find him and I still haven't been able to get a hold of Casey."

"Towers are probably jammed up," Shane muttered. "Give it a day or two an' you'll be able to reach 'em."

"I hope so," she muttered back.

* * *

The roads were packed. Traffic was headed in the same direction – towards the safe zone. The emergency broadcast continued to play on the radio. Hansen and Becky were standing next to Shane's squad car, stretching their legs after being cramped up. Cars were parked on the highway, something about an accident up ahead that had stalled the entire southbound lane. Hansen stretched his arms above his head, making small talk with some guy that was stuck about mile up the road who had taken to walking while they cleared a path. "How long's this way clogged up like this?" Jennifer asked, stepping up to Hansen's side. They had been stuck for close to an hour and she was running out of things to do to keep her mind busy. She clutched a wrinkled map in her hand, chewing on the inside of her lip at the sounds of an aircraft.

"No one really knows for sure," Hansen replied with a stretch. "This guy is about half a mile up." He gestured to the man. "He doesn't know how far up it goes either."

"We should scout up ahead, I think there's a turn off about a quarter mile up. If there's enough room to get past these people, we could get on a back road. It would be safer that way. Everyone wants to get on the highway because it's faster." She paused, but with Hansen's continued blank expression, she continued. "Not with traffic it isn't. The back roads are going to be damn near empty. We could keep moving – have a better chance at not running out of gas too." Hansen stole a glance at Shane, who was perched up inside his squad car, scanning through radio channels.

"He isn't going to let you go. You know that right?" She huffed and slapped him on the shoulder with the map. "I'm just speakin' the truth here, Morgan. Don't get all catty. That man ain't gonna let you outta his sight."

"I'm faster than either one of you. If shit were to go south, I could just run back. I would have my radio, I mean… we can't afford not to do this. That's all I'm saying." Hansen shook his head and lit up a cigarette, taking a long, satisfying drag.

"So what am I supposed to help you do? Sneak out of here?"

"Just give me an hour," she asked, staring down the highway. "I know exactly what marker we're at. He's not paying attention right now. I won't be more than an hour."

"Jen, I - "

"An hour. He'll only be mad at you until I get back. You can't take at least one hit for me, Hansen?" Scowling, he turned to look at her fully.

"One hour," he warned, before waving her off. Jennifer took great care in retrieving her bag and radio from the car, keeping her moments slow and careful to keep Shane's eyes off of hers. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she gave Hansen a salute and broke out into a steady jog along the shoulder of the highway. She caught the eyes of a few she passed, none of them staying interested in her for long. Whipping the map back out, she squinted up at the mile markers, drawing a line with a finger along the map as she ran. The woods that fenced in the highway became denser along with the tension in the crowd. Her glock weighed heavily on her hip, giving her the courage to continue along. There were people counting her to find a way out of the situation they were in. Three aircrafts flew by overhead, low to the ground. The sounds drew the attention of everyone on the street, all heads turned to watch the machines fly towards the city. After a few moments, the ground shook and people began to scream. Jennifer turned to watch the explosions. Eyes wide, she stood and watched as the buildings became engulfed in flames.

"We need to get out of here," she mumbled to herself before breaking out into a jog again. After a few more minutes of jogging she found the turn off. She started to head down the path when her radio began to buzz and vibrate on her side. Knowing it was Shane, she did her best to cancel out the buzzing and the ever present need to let him know she was okay. The paved path was concealed by a large bush, the forest flanked either side of the path. Swallowing, she ran down the path, hoping that the traffic was only limited to the highway. Silence fell over her like a blanket, the trees effectively blocking out most of the noise from the vehicles and people gathered on the road. Her radio continued to buzz as she ran, muscles tight from the cool breeze. A deafening scream broke through the cool air, locking Jennifer in place. The scream was no more than half a mile away. Panic and fear drove adrenaline throughout her body. "Fuck," she muttered, fumbling for her gun. Growling and rasping came from nearby. Her heart jumped, lungs kicking into overdrive. Her legs faltered for a second, unsure of which direction to carry her in. She decided to run towards the screaming, her need to protect others overriding her need to protect herself. The woods were dark, it was hard to see the outlines of the trees and the brush below. Jennifer continued to run towards the scream, which was a full fledged sob now, mixed in with cries of pain. "I'm coming!" she yelled. "I'm almost there!" She steadied her gun in her hand and continued to run, eyes wide, trying to make out what she could of her surroundings. "Almost - " Her right shoulder caught the side of a large tree, her body jerked backwards from the motion, legs stumbling to redistribute her weight. She reached out to grab a nearby tree and missed, her body continuing it's descent towards the ground. A sharp, intense pain bloomed across the backside of her head and then darkness...

* * *

**Ending note: There are reasons for what I did! Promise! All shall be revealed soon! :)**


End file.
